The Forest
by sousatayue
Summary: The Galactic Civil War has ended, but the conflict is far from over. In Wild Space, a gambit more far more personal than the ongoing cold war begins. There is a promise within fear of loss, truth within desire, and hope within despair as dangerously high stakes stands with the potential to alter the fate of a small world on the brink of disaster...but at what cost? (Post-Manga)
1. Chapter 1

The stars glittered throughout the night, beautiful yet sad at the same time. They were a constant reminder of a promise that she had made years ago that has not been fulfilled.

 _When you get back, come and find me._

The woman frowned. How could she be sure that her quarry was still alive?

"You're still out here?"

The woman turned. Another female stood at the entrance of the ship, a look of concern on her face. She held up a bottle of vodka, amber eyes hard from years of guarding Lothal in the Galactic Civil War. "It's a nice night; I figured we could use a pick-me-up."

The first woman managed a light smile. "Thanks, Sabine."

The woman named Sabine sat down beside her, pouring the drinks into supplied shot glasses. The other took one, finding the burning sensation welcoming. She returned her gaze to the stars, a small smile on her face. Sabine was right; it was a beautiful night—cool, with a breeze. It was the perfect complement to a forested setting.

"We'll find him, Ahsoka."

The woman—Ahsoka—turned, meeting Sabine's gaze. "I hope so. We've been looking in the Unknown Regions for a year-and-a-half now, and still we've found nothing. Even _this_ planet isn't yielding any results." She frowned. "It's been over a decade since Ezra disappeared. How do we know for sure he survived to begin with?"

Sabine smiled slightly. "You've kept saying that you would have felt it if he had died. So far, you haven't. Therefore, we wait, and we hope." She sat on the grass, shrugging. "Who knows; maybe this time we'll get lucky."

Ahsoka returned the smile, pouring herself another shot of liqueur. "Maybe we will."

* * *

Dawn arrived. Ahsoka walked to the middle of the woods, finally sober from the vodka consumed hours earlier. She knelt down to meditate in an earthen path, taking careful note of the strange pattern of the trees, which seemed to have grown in an intricate circular fashion, so as not to get lost on the way back. She closed her eyes.

 _If there are any answers as to where Ezra might be, I need to know._

Silence.

 _Shoot,_ she thought. _Of course it didn't work. I guess I'll try again later._

She removed herself from the trance, opening her eyes, but there was not a tree in sight.

Confused, Ahsoka stood, looking around. There was nothing but an off-white surrounding and a door behind her, similar to that of the Malachor portal.

 _Is this like the World Between Worlds again?_

She wasn't sure, but there was something about this place that gave her the creeps.

"I shouldn't be here," she whispered.

"Obviously."

Ahsoka's eyes widened, hearing the multiple-yet-one voice behind her. The voice was her own but distorted with many others. It gave her an eerie reminder of the Mortis gods.

She turned slowly, noticing a figure sitting cross-legged several metres in front of her. It was a mirror-like spectre, also a Togruta, feminine, faceless except for a mouth. It looked almost shadow-like, black vapour flowing around it.

"What is this place?" she asked. "More importantly, what are you?"

The figure smirked. "This is the Gate. As for me—I am who you might call God, or the universe. I am all, and I am one. I am Truth. Also—" the spectre pointed directly at her "I am _you._ "

Ahsoka gave the entity—Truth—a look. "You're a manifestation of the Force," she realised.

"Something like that," Truth accepted. "The Force is the energy surrounding all living things, as you well know, Ahsoka Tano. Ashla, Bogan and I are separate entities. Where they are the energy, I am what holds them together. Yet not many know of this."

Ahsoka tilted her head. "So, this place—is it similar to the World Between Worlds?"

"In a sense," Truth said cryptically. "But that is all of the information you will be getting about it with _that_ price."

Ahsoka's eyes narrowed. _I knew this place was creepy._ "Explain."

Truth facepalmed. "Clearly no one in your part of the universe ever bothered to explain the concept of Equivalent Exchange. _No wonder_ everybody keeps screwing things up." The entity faced her directly. "Nothing is ever free. In order to obtain something, another thing of equal value must be lost. All actions have their equivalent consequence." The spectre gestured to her. "And everyone has a toll to pay." Truth frowned, musing. "It seems _you_ have lost far more than most. Your future as a Jedi. Your mind, for a brief time. Many of your friends. The Clone Wars. Even your life, twice. Technically."

Ahsoka grimaced, memories of that fateful encounter threatening to surface. "I didn't die on Malachor."

"No, but Ezra Bridger pulled you into the World Between Worlds. Both of you were in a zombie state, at the same time alive and dead since you were in a domain outside of time and space. So that still counts."

"Fine," Ahsoka conceded. "But why is it that you have to take from others for it to be an equivalent exchange?"

The spectre sighed. "I'm called Truth for a reason," the entity said seriously. "Perhaps if you see, you might understand." Truth pointed to the door behind her. Immediately it opened, and tentacles swarmed out, wrapping around the Togruta. Ahsoka fought against them, failing to free herself. She glared at Truth. "What the _hell_ are you doing?"

"Showing you," the spectre said simply, pointing again. The tentacles pulled Ahsoka inside the door, the entrance closing in front of her.

What Ahsoka saw next was unexplainable.

It was as though the entirety of information itself was being forced inside her head, information from varying databanks and other sources about who knows what. It was painful—so much so that she screamed, even though she knew there was nothing that could be done except wait it out. She looked down and saw herself being disassembled in an almost pixelated manner.

 _Is this what the truth feels like?_

She guessed it was. It was almost this bad when she found out what had happened to Anakin. She had denied it then. This time, she had no choice but to accept what was being presented to her.

After what seemed like moments, Ahsoka was back in the presence of Truth, her ontological being put back together.

"You seem to understand that much," Truth said. "Good. Not many people are wise enough to."

Ahsoka was speechless. Was this thing watching the entire time?

 _Perhaps it's better not to know_ , she decided.

Truth tilted its head at her. "Do you not have anything to say, former Jedi?"

"It's kind of hard to say a lot about something that cannot be completely explained," Ahsoka quipped.

"Fair enough." Truth stood. "I will leave you some information about the edge of the Unknown Regions, as you so like to call them. This is not a free pass; it is for the survival or yourself and of your friend. There are those there who are alchemists, those who abide by the Law of Equivalent exchange to create new things out of equal mass. You are probably familiar with the concept as a dark side technique from your teachings as a Jedi. What they did not tell you was that those who perform transmutation of sentient beings, particularly human transmutation, are usually in my audience as punishment. They lose what a part of themselves as the toll for their ignorance. People such as yourself, for instance."

 _Wait…what?_ "But I'm not human," Ahsoka pointed out. "And I didn't perform transmutation. I couldn't have."

"Regardless, you completed the transgression without realising it," the entity sternly retorted. "Perhaps you do not understand as much as I would have liked to believe. Alchemy is but _one_ manifestation of the Force! All of the elements for the transmutation were more than provided. Even if it was unintentional, there is a toll for everyone who stands before me, human or not." Truth grinned. In an instant, everything was gone.

* * *

Ahsoka's eyes opened, a bloodcurdling scream emitting from her throat. She panted, looking around in terror. She was back in the forest—from the looks of it, only moments had passed. She got up, backing up as far away as she could from the spot where she had meditated. The former Jedi sat down against a tree, hyperventilating, trying to process the nightmare she had just experienced. Whatever it was, she was very certain that it was neither a dream nor a vision.

 _What did that thing take from me?!_

A blaster bolt whizzed past her. Ahsoka bolted upright, lightsabres igniting in a defensive position. The Togruta was completely alert now, thanks to whatever it was she experienced. But she knew that the drunkenness was not what had been taken from her.

Sabine came into view, blasters steaming. Upon seeing the former Jedi she removed her helmet, a concerned look on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Of course not, dumbass!" Ahsoka snapped. "You shot at me!"

Sabine recoiled. "Geez, sorry. I heard you scream and I thought something was attacking you. What happened back there?"

"Does it matter?" Ahsoka shot back.

Sabine raised an eyebrow. "Well, considering the fact that you look like hell, I'd say that, yes, it does matter."

Ahsoka sighed. "I saw something I wish I hadn't. End of story."

Sabine shrugged. Her eyes narrowed. The Mandalorian put her helmet back on, firing her blasters again. "I think I know what you mean."

Ahsoka turned, eyes widening. A large blackened, severely deformed creature crawled towards them, a look of pure evil in its red eyes. It was already wounded from where Sabine had shot it, but it kept going. The Togruta ran towards it, wrestling with and slashing through it with her lightsabres until it dropped, completely dead. Sabine did not know what the former Jedi had seen, but that creature was certainly not it. Was that thing from the circle? She did not know. Had it been lurking around the whole time? She did not know that one, either.

 _Everyone has a toll to pay._

Ahsoka turned to Sabine. "We have to go. _Now!_ "

The Mandalorian nodded, not bothering to question her. The women ran for their starship, not stopping until they were on board. Ahsoka took the pilot's seat, sending the ship into hyperspace as soon as they cleared orbit.

"Maybe getting drunk was a bad idea," Sabine muttered from the co-pilot seat. "What the heck just happened?"

"I dunno," Ahsoka admitted. "But whatever it was, I'm just glad that we don't have to deal with it anymore."

"If you say so."

Ahsoka set her focus on hyperspace. She and Sabine might be safe for the time being, but Truth's words kept nagging at her: _All actions have their equivalent consequences. And everyone has their toll to pay._


	2. Chapter 2

Sabine couldn't help but notice that there was something a bit… _off_ about Ahsoka ever since the former Jedi had finished meditating. Whatever the Togruta had seen, it had shaken her up in a bad way, and the Mandalorian was being kept in the dark about it. Every time she would ask Ahsoka about it she would either ignore her or change the subject, an edge in her tone indicating that she did not want to talk about it. They had been in hyperspace for just under five hours, and she _still_ looked terrible. Sabine gave up trying to figure out what had happened, chalking it up to stuff that Ezra and Kanan used to experience, and instead devoted her focus to keeping the systems operational.

The ship unexpectedly dropped out of hyperspace. Sabine turned towards Ahsoka, raising an eyebrow. "Why are we stopping here?"

Ahsoka leaned back into the seat. "You drive. I need to lie down."

 _She dropped us out of hyperspace for_ that? Sabine frowned, concerned. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Ahsoka got up, shrugging. "I'll live. Right now, I need a break."

"Whatever." Sabine took up the proffered seat, while Ahsoka walked towards the back of the ship. The Mandalorian noticed the uncertainty in the Togruta's gait, and her concern increased.

 _Fuck it,_ she thought. _The next planet we go to, I'll see if there is a med-centre. That woman is hurt, no matter how hard she tries to deny it._

She checked the navicomputer, using the starmap they had bought from some junk dealer three months earlier. The next habitable star system was only two parsecs away. Sabine decided that they would stop there for a few days; travelling for days at a time in hyperspace was also starting to wear her out, and the ship wasn't going to be able to go much longer, either, with the amount of fuel that was left.

"Here we go," she muttered, sending the ship yet again into hypserspace.

* * *

It was in the pilot's seat that Ahsoka had realised something was really wrong. She had felt dizzy and unsteady, although she couldn't quite place the cause. Perhaps it had been because she was going for hours on end running on adrenaline. Whatever the case, the Togruta had thought it best to let Sabine take over.

She walked into her quarters, passing out as soon as she hit the bed. When she came to, Sabine was standing over her. "Oh, good. You're awake."

Ahsoka groaned. "How long was I out?"

Sabine shrugged. "About five or six hours, my guess. I decided to make a pit stop; we're running low on fuel." She narrowed her eyes. "You _really_ don't look good."

Ahsoka raised her hand in a dismissive gesture. "I told you, I'll live. Besides, I was exhausted."

"Like hell," Sabine retorted. "I don't need a medical droid to notice symptoms of a concussion!"

"I'm not concussed!" Ahsoka protested. "Besides, I wasn't even hit in the head."

Sabine did not look convinced. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Ahsoka gave her an exasperated look. "One. And it's the middle finger."

Sabine relaxed slightly. "Okay, you're not concussed," she conceded. "But you still look like shit."

"Fuck off," Ahsoka muttered. She wasn't in the mood for being fondled over.

The Mandalorian shrugged. "Whatever. If you're going to puke, do it outside. We've landed."

With that, Sabine left.

Ahsoka took a deep breath. The experience with Truth still nagged at her. She got up, only to find herself weirdly disoriented. She looked around, baffled. _Maybe I_ am _concussed after all. I don't get_ why _though._ She could see everything as she normally would, but her montrals didn't seem to be cooperating with the object-location senses. In fact, it was as though the sense wasn't even _there._ She walked unsteadily to the mirror, unsettled at how she couldn't perceive the sound of the ship moving. She looked up, nausea threatening to take over. Apart from the haunted look in her eyes, everything appeared to be normal. Externally, that is.

"I can't locate a damn thing with my montrals," she grumbled, looking at the ground as she suppressed the urge to vomit. She paused, eyes widening with horror as realisation kicked in.

 _Everyone has a toll to pay._

 _They lose a part of themselves as a toll for their ignorance._

Ahsoka looked at her reflection in the mirror, trying not to scream in rage. "Truth, you bastard," she seethed. "You really do have a sick sense of humour."

She understood what the entity had taken from her now. The Togruta had been so focused on finding Ezra that she and Sabine had taken to using whatever means necessary to try and locate him or to find a lead—or to survive. Now she couldn't rely on sound to sense motion because her ability to passively echolocate was _gone._

Ahsoka threw her commlink at the wall, frustrated. The only comfort she got from that was that the device actually hit where she had intended it to do so. At least she still had her depth perception.

"That fucking toll," Ahsoka muttered, releasing the worst of her anger before it pulled her too close to the dark side. She sat on the bed, leaning against the wall. "We shouldn't have gotten drunk."

Several moments passed before she decided that she was ready to exit the ship. Ahsoka pulled her staff towards her with the Force—narrowly avoiding smacking herself in the face with it as she did so—and walked out of the room, heavily relying on it for balance. After a few instances of running into walls she switched to relying on the Force to help her adjust faster to the annoyance. When she emerged, Sabine was already outside, drinking from a bottle of ale.

"Sobriety is a thing, you know," Ahsoka pointed out.

"So is rest," Sabine retorted. "Like I said earlier, you look like shit."

"Screw that," Ahsoka dismissed. "Do you know where we are, exactly?"

Sabine nodded. "According to the starmap that dealer gave us, we're on the third planet of the Riben system: Hagane. We're in the region known as Amestris; our current position is about twenty klicks east of Liore. The population here is pretty much entirely human. I looked at some of the places in the city earlier, and it looks like this world uses High Galactic, rather than the usual Aurebesh, but we'll be fine either way since we're literate in both."

"At least the planet's inhabited," the Togruta pointed out somewhat optimistically. "Any sign of Ezra?"

Sabine shook her head. "There's no record of any Star Destroyers entering the system, and I haven't gotten around to talking with the locals yet."

"We might as well start looking."

Sabine frowned. "The only thing _you_ should be looking for at the moment is a medic. I don't know what hit you, Ahsoka, but you're still really off-kilter."

Ahsoka snorted mirthlessly. "Medics aren't going to be able to do shit for me. Besides, they probably haven't seen a Togruta in their lives. They wouldn't know what to do."

"If you say so," Sabine muttered, finishing off the alcohol. "We'll start searching for what we need in the morning. _After_ we move the ship."

The Togruta nodded, finally taking the time to take in her surroundings. They were in a desert, thankfully not one as hot as Tatooine, the night sky providing a view of the stars overhead. It was beautiful, but bittersweet at the same time. It reminded her too much of Lothal, of Ezra, of Anakin. She had lived through two galaxy-wide wars, spending most of her life involved with the conflicts. But the wars were over, and they were on a greater mission now. The Unknown Regions was already proving to be full of surprises.

Like Truth.

Ahsoka glared at the stars. _If you're listening, Truth, I get it. You're teaching me a lesson. It's about my promise to Ezra, isn't it?_

A faint voice whispered in her ear, many yet one. _In due time, Ahsoka Tano. But this is a lesson, yes. One that you must understand on your own._

Truth's presence vanished almost as quickly as it had come, leaving the former Jedi to ponder in the desert.


	3. Chapter 3

The man leaned against a fountain, watching the bustling area that was the city centre of Liore. He was again reminded of when he had first visited here with his older brother all those years ago. Things had changed. The former town had grown into a city following the riots. His brother was married and had two children now. He himself had a girlfriend, Mei Chang.

He noticed two women heading towards a nearby vendor, one of whom was wearing a set of armour. Nostalgia kicked in, and the man couldn't help but smile slightly. He remembered the days where he was nothing _but_ a soul in a suit of armour, when he and his brother were constantly striving to make sure they returned to normal after…after the incident.

 _It's over now, Alphonse,_ he told himself sternly. _Relax. You and Edward have been doing okay since the war ended. Let the past go._

"I like that woman's armour," Mei commented, breaking him out of reverie. "It seems as though she added a personal touch to it."

The man known as Alphonse looked at the armour more closely, noticing the painted designs on the helmet and the plating. On one shoulder was painted a strange beast with tentacles, the helmet a dark shade of blue. There were other designs he could not make out, but Alphonse couldn't help but to admire the craftsmanship.

"It does look nice," he conceded.

Mei grasped his hand, pulling him up. "Come on, Al! I want to learn everything I can about that beautiful piece of art!"

Alphonse found himself being dragged by his girlfriend towards the pair, having to run just to keep up with the woman. They found them a moment later, Mei flagging them down.

The armoured woman removed her helmet, amber eyes complementing a pixie cut of purple hair. She appeared to be around their age, also human. "You need help?" she asked, accent indicating that she was a foreigner.

Alphonse shook his head. "Nope. My girlfriend wanted to ask about your armour; she likes the designs quite a bit."

The armoured woman's face lit up. "In that case, I'm happy to talk about art!"

Mei grinned. "Awesome! Come on; I'll get you some coffee!"

As the two went off, Alphonse turned to the other woman. She was taller, about ten or so years older than him, and clearly not human. Her skin was a burnt sierra colour, with white tattoos on her face. Where she should have had hair was a trifold set of skin, blue-and-white striped, extending about a foot upwards from the top of her skull and another part to her hips in the front and back. Alphonse had a feeling that the woman—and possibly her companion—was an offworlder, people from the other parts of the galaxy that were not from this planet, but those were few and rare nowadays. There was also something else that made him uneasy, but he dismissed the notion.

"You don't seem like you're from around here," Alphonse commented.

The taller woman smiled slightly. "We're not," she agreed. "We're from a different part of the galaxy altogether, although I don't know if your world understands the concept."

"Oh, we do," Alphonse informed her. "Although you two appear to be the first offworlders to visit in several years."

The woman didn't look happy about that for some reason. "Is that so?" she mused, more to herself. Her expression changed as she turned to face him directly. "Ahsoka," she introduced herself.

"Alphonse," he responded, extending a hand. "Alphonse Elric." The woman shook it firmly before giving him a curious look. "Are you from this area?"

"Not originally," Alphonse admitted. "But I am Amestrian. My girlfriend, Mei, is from Xing. We've been travelling the world the past several years, hoping to learn what we could about it." He didn't want to get into the concept of alchemy, but Ahsoka appeared to sense that part about them. Thankfully she didn't bring it up.

"That must be nice," the non-human commented. "Most people in the galaxy simply choose to travel between worlds rather than explore the entirety of their own. You two are fortunate to have such an experience."

"Thank you." He gave her a curious look. "So, what's space like?"

Ahsoka shrugged. "Cold. Dangerous. Just make sure not to open the airlock and you'll be fine."

Alphonse only slightly understood what she was referring to. He had learned about offworlders from merchants in Xing, having been told that these were people with technology so advanced they could travel the stars. "Sounds interesting," he remarked.

"Yeah." Ahsoka glanced at him. "This part of the galaxy is virtually unknown to the vast majority of us—and frankly, I think it's better off that way. You are all better off like this," she said, her tone simultaneously serious and sincere.

Alphonse figured it was better not to ask. It was then he noticed her eyes. They had seen war, that much he figured, but he wasn't expecting to see something so chillingly familiar within them. Those blue eyes appeared listless but were actually burning with a fire all-too-familiar to him.

Alphonse's unease returned, only to be replaced by dread when he nailed down the cause of that feeling. The woman's eyes were _exactly_ like Edward's in the first days since they had committed taboo in a failed attempt to bring their mother back from the dead.

More importantly, there was a possibility that she had seen Truth, and lost something at the Gate. That he was sure of, because the Elric brothers had experienced it first-hand. But that was impossible; the woman wasn't even _remotely_ human. There was no way she could have done it; but at the same time, those eyes seemed to tell a different story.

 _Or maybe it could just be stress, and I'm losing it._

But something told him otherwise.

"Al!"

Alphonse turned, noticing Mei and the armoured woman return, smiles on both their faces. "How did it go?"

"Awesome!" the Xingese woman replied happily. "Sabine is an amazing artist; I got to learn a lot about Mandalorian culture as well!"

The armoured woman—Sabine, Alphonse presumed—shrugged. "It was fine; I also got to learn about Xingese and Amestrian cultures. This world is full of interesting surprises."

"I'll say," Ahsoka responded, attempting to hide the fire with a smile. "This place is nice."

Sabine raised an eyebrow. "You seem to be feeling better." The comment was directed toward Ahsoka.

The non-human shrugged, smile fading. "Like I told you, I'll live. It's not like I got blackout drunk or something."

Sabine's expression became serious. "Ahsoka—"

The woman's eyes narrowed. "I told you, I'm fine!" She relented, walking towards the fountain. "Just drop it, okay?"

Sabine shrugged. Mei and Alphonse exchanged concerned looks. Sabine walked towards them, an annoyed expression on her face. "She's _not_ fine," she whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Alphonse asked, keeping his voice at a low volume.

Sabine gestured towards Ahsoka. "Togrutas have _very_ good hearing."

"Togruta?" Mei asked. "Is that what she is?"

Sabine nodded. "Her race evolved from desert predators, so she's got a tonne of predatorial instincts at hand, on top of the Force."

"The what?" Mei asked.

Sabine pursed her lips in thought. "She can explain it to you better than I can."

 _She, meaning Ahsoka,_ Alphonse figured. "Well—"

"I can hear every word you're saying," Ahsoka retorted, shouting slightly from the fountain. "I'm fine, really."

 _Bullshit,_ Alphonse thought. The denial was all but obvious in her voice now. He figured it best to play along. "That's good!" he hollered. "Then get over here; we're going out for dinner!"

Ahsoka shrugged, walking towards them. Mei grasped his arm. "What are you doing?"

"Trying not to make a scene," Alphonse whispered. "She's already got onlookers as it is; besides, she reminds me of Ed. She doesn't seem to be the pity type."

Mei smirked. "You're not wrong." She glanced at him. "You have Xiao Mei, don't you?"

Alphonse gestured to his shirt pocket. "She's safe and sound." He brought out the tiny panda, the creature immediately heading over to embrace her human companion.

Sabine noticed the encounter, smiling. "She's so cute!"

Mei smiled. "Thanks! This panda's been with me ever since I was a little girl. We're practically inseparable."

"I can tell." Sabine then turned towards Ahsoka, who had just joined them. "You ready?"

The Togruta shrugged. Alphonse took it as a "yes" and gestured for the group to walk to a nearby coffee shop. They didn't go inside but sat at one of the tables in front of the establishment.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Alphonse asked.

"Not particularly," Ahsoka responded. "I appreciate the concern, guys, but it's okay. Really."

"I can respect that."

Mei leaned onto the table. "So, what brings you two to Amestris?"

"Our ship's running low on fuel," Sabine explained. "We've been travelling in and out of hyperspace for the past year-and-a-half, and it hasn't been an easy journey."

"You're running from something?" Alphonse asked.

Ahsoka shook her head. "On the contrary: we're looking for someone. A friend of ours went missing over a decade ago, just before the Galactic Civil War, and he hasn't been heard from since."

"So, what makes you think he's alive?"

Ahsoka frowned. "I would have felt it if he died."

Mei tilted her head. "You're an alchemist?"

Ahsoka stiffened. "What? No. I used to be a Jedi, many years ago. I am sensitive to the Force, and near as I can tell alchemists are the same way." She directed that last part at Alphonse, a knowing look in her eyes, as if she could sense his abilities. "Different people in the galaxy use the Force differently. The Jedi used it to keep peace in the galaxy once upon a time, and the Sith used it for destruction. The Nightsisters used it in a method similar to alchemy, but for witchcraft. But they're all gone now."

"What do you mean, 'gone'?" Alphonse asked sharply.

"When I was a teenager, war broke out across the galaxy," Ahsoka explained. "The Clone Wars. The Separatists, aided by the Sith, fought the Republic and the Jedi. The Separatists wiped out the Nightsisters about a year into the fighting. Just after the war ended, the Jedi were purged, too, by the Sith." Bitterness crept into the woman's voice. "The Galactic Republic became the Galactic Empire, and the Sith ruled the galaxy for a bit more than twenty years. During that time it was absolute hell, but I'll spare the details.

"The people within the Empire's oppression started to fight back, spawning the Galactic Civil War. The remaining Sith died a year before the war ended, so I heard, and the Rebellion won after five long years of fighting. There's a cold war going on right now, but that's to be expected: The Empire's not known to stay down long. They've rebranded themselves as the First Order, but I don't know what to expect from them. Sabine and I left on our search a few years ago, and from what we could tell things have already started to get ugly again even with the war officially over."

Mei whistled. "I'm just glad we're not in that part of the galaxy." She frowned. "Then again, where exactly in the galaxy are we, anyway?"

Sabine pressed a button on her arm gauntlet, pulling up a projection of the galaxy. "We're on the outer edge of the north-westernmost spiral. This part of the galaxy is uncharted except to those merchants and junk dealers who travel through the area." She pointed to the inner area of the map. "This is where the wars took place."

"Damn," Alphonse whistled. "How have you two stayed alive for so long?"

"Carefully," Sabine responded, turning off the projection.

Mei exchanged a glance with Alphonse, turning back towards the offworlders. "Do you have a place to stay? If not, we can accommodate you."

"Mei—" Alphonse muttered under his breath. Sabine smiled. "That would be nice! I promise we won't be too much trouble."

The Xingese woman grinned. "Perfect! Let's go unload stuff!"

They exited the establishment. Alphonse switched to speaking Xingese, wishing for the conversation to remain private. "What makes you think we _can_ accommodate them?" he asked. Although he was fluent, his control was not that of native proficiency, so his words were accented.

Mei smiled. "A feeling," she responded in the same language—her native tongue. "I guess it reminds me of all of the adventures I went on with all of you when we were fighting the Homunculi."

Alphonse raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"I recognised the looks in their eyes, especially Ahsoka's," she responded. "You saw it, too, Al, I know you did."

"Yeah," he admitted. "She reminds me of Ed. Of the price we paid."

Mei looked troubled. "You think she performed human transmutation?"

Alphonse rubbed the back of his head. "No," he admitted. "She's not human; it wouldn't work. But I do think she committed taboo _somehow,_ I'm sure of it. I know what it was in her eyes, Mei. I _never_ forget that look. Ed had it. He still does sometimes."

"Yeah," Mei muttered. "I can sense something within her, Al. She lost something that was meaningful to her. Pretty recently, judging from the amount of pain coming from her soul."

Alphonse looked at her, startled. "You can sense nonhuman souls?"

"Pretty much, given that this was just made apparent to me as well."

"Interesting." Alphonse smirked. "But you haven't quite answered my question."

Mei folded her arms. "It's the right thing to do, Alphonse."

Alphonse nodded. "Let's just hope so."

Mei rolled her eyes, switching back to Basic. "How far to your ship?"

"Only about another couple of klicks," Ahsoka responded.

They eventually arrived at a strange-looking vessel, hidden in the middle of the woods. Alphonse paused, taking it in full view. The ship was several metres long, bearing the resemblance of a faceless bird.

"Are you coming, Al?"

Alphonse blinked, distracted suddenly by Mei's voice. "Yeah. I'm coming." He ran to re-join the rest of the group. Sabine handed him a set of blankets, grinning slightly. "It's a lot to take in; your girlfriend was also ogling for a bit."

"Sorry. It just looks so…weird. And high-tech."

"Not really," Sabine responded. "This ship's about thirty to forty years old, so the technology's actually pretty dated. Newer ships operate way better, but she's strong."

"It's just a matter of perspective, Sabine," Ahsoka interrupted, emerging from a corridor. "Starships don't seem to be all that common here."

Sabine shrugged. "Whatever."

They left on foot, walking for several klicks to the house where Mei and Alphonse were staying. Alphonse grinned. "Welcome home."

The place was decently sized, spacious enough to accommodate a few people. It was a good thing the offworlders did not have many possessions with them, for that made life a lot easier.

Ahsoka smiled slightly. "Thank you for your hospitality." Beside her, Sabine also expressed her thanks.

"It's our pleasure," Mei responded cheerfully. "Get yourselves settled in; it must have been a long journey."

The women nodded, going towards the guest rooms.

 _At last, we're alone._ Alphonse held Mei tight, smirking slightly. "I still can't believe you were able to afford this place."

Mei snorted. "I'm a princess of Xing, remember? I have my ways."

Alphonse kissed her on the forehead. "Yes, you do." He let go of her, making his way to the phone.

"Is everything okay?" Mei asked.

Alphonse grinned. "I'm just going to give Ed a call, that's all."

Mei smiled. "Okay! Maybe when he has time, tell him to come over for dinner. I'm sure he needs the break."

"Will do." Alphonse dialled the number for Edward's place. After a moment, he got a response.

" _Hello?"_ Winry—Edward's wife.

Alphonse smiled. "Oh, hey, Winry! How's life?"

The woman on the other end sighed. _"Busy. I've got my hands full with the kids, especially since both of them are almost done with primary school. Ed's had it busy as well."_

"I'm sure of it," Alphonse responded. "Could you put him on the line, please?"

" _Sure thing. Just give me a sec."_ Alphonse waited a moment. Then—

" _Al?"_

Alphonse grinned as he recognised his brother's voice. "Ed! It's so good to hear your voice!"

" _Likewise,"_ the older Elric replied. _"What's up?"_

Alphonse's smile faded. "Do you think you can come over for a few days? I need to talk with you about something."

" _Huh."_ Edward's tone indicated concern. _"You didn't mess up alkahestry again, did you?"_

Alphonse's eyes widened. _Please tell me Mei didn't hear that._ "What? No. Nothing like that." He sighed. "Look, brother, it's important. _Truth_ important."

Edward growled. The older Elric particularly loathed the entity, and for good reason. _"You didn't do anything to get his attention again, did you?"_

"No," Alphonse said seriously. "I didn't." He lowered his voice. "But I think I ran into an offworlder who might have."

" _Offworlder?"_ That got Edward's attention. _"What makes you so certain?"_

"Her eyes," Alphonse said seriously. "They were just like yours all those years ago, after we tried to revive Mom."

Edward didn't respond for a moment. When he did, his tone was severe. _"I'm on my way. This stays between us, Al. At least until we are absolutely certain."_

"I understand," Alphonse said gravely. "Thanks, brother." He hung up, sighing. Edward was pissed, and rightly so. But Alphonse knew that he was also concerned. If Ahsoka really had done what was forbidden, despite not being human herself, they were likely in for all sorts of hell.

He just hoped he was wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

Sabine finished unpacking her stuff, admiring the efficiency of the task. She and Ahsoka had taken separate guest rooms—the Togruta had the one upstairs—and, quite frankly, Sabine thought it was better that way. She wasn't as used to being able to breathe fresh air out of an open window as she used to be, and she wanted to do so without having to listen to any of Ahsoka's nightmares. In a way her friend really was doing better, but at the same time she wasn't. She figured that the fresh air might help Ahsoka calm down a bit and relax.

The Mandalorian couldn't help but to admire the simplistic painting that adorned the wall. It was beautiful, and yet so minimalistic. It seemed similar to some of the works of Mandalorian artists that had influenced her own style, yet it was a culture all its own.

"Fascinating," Sabine mused.

"I'm glad you like it."

Sabine jumped slightly, hearing Mei behind her. The Xingese woman laughed awkwardly. "Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!"

"You're fine," Sabine reassured her, turning to face the other woman. "That is such a nice painting."

Mei smiled. "Alphonse made that one during his travels. He learned the style from an old merchant, and how meaningful it is to express art in this manner."

 _Wow._ "I'll have to talk with him about that. It's an interesting perspective."

"I'm sure he'll be able to accommodate you." Mei changed the subject. "I'm making dinner soon. Do you have any food preferences?"

Sabine laughed. _Do I ever!_ "So long as it's not ration sticks, I'm fine with whatever."

"Sounds good to me." Mei walked towards the kitchen. "Let me or Al know if you two need anything!"

"Got it!" Sabine sat down on the bed, admiring her surroundings. She had a good feeling about this place.

* * *

Edward had wanted to talk with his brother for a while now. However, he didn't expect it to be about taboo again.

 _I thought we were done with Truth after I sacrificed my Gate,_ the older brother thought. _Now I see that I was mistaken. The taboo is still being committed by others. The only Truth I had defeated was my own._

He had told Winry that he was going to be visiting Alphonse for a bit, and she had made him promise not to do anything too dangerous. Edward had done so, but he knew that if it really was Truth they were dealing with again, then this really was "too dangerous" for Winry. He'd promised his children that he would be back soon, but he didn't know if that would be the case. They were venturing into unknown territory, and Edward no longer had alchemy at his side. Not that he needed it; he made that realisation long ago. But the mere mention of Truth had filled him with a sense of rage and dread, bad memories threatening to surface before he pushed them back down.

Now, on the train ride to Liore, Edward Elric felt a sense of resolve.

* * *

The train did not get into Liore until well past midnight, having been delayed by a few stops en route. Edward headed to Mei's cottage via cab, travelling for several klicks before ultimately arriving at the destination, the stars high in the night sky.

Edward thanked the cabbie, paying his fare before walking up to the entrance. He knocked on the door, opening almost immediately to reveal Alphonse. The Elric brothers embraced, not daring to let go for several moments. They missed each other so, so much.

"It's good to see you, brother," Alphonse whispered before disentangling himself. "Come on in."

Edward took in his surroundings, nodding in approval. "Nice place." He raised an eyebrow. "Mind telling me what's going on, exactly?"

Alphonse nodded. "This way."

Edward followed, soon noticing that he wasn't the only guest. Two women were present as well: the first was a human woman around their age, wearing a set of clearly personalised armour. The brothers walked upstairs, noticing the second on the roof outside the guest bedroom window. From what Edward could tell, she was definitely not human. However, she gave off a clear enough vibe to indicate something all-too-familiar.

 _Oh, no._

Edward gestured for his brother to follow him downstairs. They walked into the kitchen, talking once certain they were alone. "Are they—"

"Offworlders?" Alphonse finished. "Yep." The younger Elric grimaced. "You noticed it, too, didn't you?"

"Damn right I did," Edward hissed. "That shouldn't be possible in her case. What was that woman thinking? Surely she knew about Equivalent Exchange!"

Alphonse rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Actually, I don't think she did. I don't think she even knew how to transmute in the first place. She's not an alchemist."

"Then what is she?"

Alphonse gave him a warning look that said, _Keep your voice down._ "She's like us, brother. Force-sensitive."

Edward looked at him in confusion. "Come again?"

The younger Elric leaned against the counter. "I heard stories about the Force during my travels in the eastern nations. It's an energy field that surrounds us, binds us together. Everyone has the Force within them, yet there are those of us who are stronger with it than others. Alchemists. Jedi. Sith. Witches. Even people who are no longer a part of those sects."

Edward shook his head. "That's impossible. I gave up my Gate of Truth to save you. I haven't been able to use alchemy since."

"But you can still use the Force in other ways, Ed," Alphonse pointed out. "It's never truly gone. I don't fully understand it, though."

"Does anyone? We're just ordinary people."

Alphonse shrugged. "That's true. In fact—" he broke off, turning. Edward followed his gaze, noticing the armoured woman from earlier.

"I heard part of what you were saying," she said seriously. "There's something I need to tell you."

Alphonse gestured for her to join them. He frowned. "What is it, Sabine?"

The woman folded her arms. "Something happened right before we got here. Ahsoka and I stopped off on a world about ten parsecs away. It was a nice night, and we were drinking in the forest. After we sobered up, Ahsoka went deeper into the woods to meditate. She won't tell me exactly what happened, but whatever it was it scared her. Badly. I opened fire because I thought she was in the middle being attacked." She grimaced. "But something _did_ come after us. This—this _thing,_ " she paused, tears streaming down her face. She looked down to avoid them having to see her lose composure. "It looked like something out of a nightmare. Ahsoka killed it, but it was so deformed and—"

"Deformed, black, and definitely not human?" Edward asked, voice filling with dread.

"Yeah." She looked up briefly, confused. "How did you know?"

 _Damn it._ "I saw something similar once, when Al and I were kids. It scared the shit out of me, too."

Sabine looked back down, composure slowly returning. "What _was_ that thing?"

"You don't want to know," Edward said grimly. "I mean it."

Sabine nodded. "I keep asking Ahsoka about what happened, but she keeps saying that she's fine. I know for a fact that she's _not._ She's exhausted, and whatever happened it literally unbalanced her."

Edward raised an eyebrow. _That's really not good._ The likelihood that the other woman _did_ somehow commit taboo appeared to be increasing. "Maybe we can get through to her."

"I doubt it," Alphonse butted in. "She wouldn't talk about it in the city centre."

"Of course she wouldn't!" Edward retorted. "This isn't something you can really talk about in public!"

Alphonse looked away, chastened. Edward remembered their actions; even now, after everything that had happened with the Homunculi, human transmutation—or anything similar to it—was still an act of taboo. In his opinion, that woman had acted wisely in not saying anything at all.

Edward glanced at Sabine, fire burning in his eyes. "We'll talk to her."

Sabine nodded, bloodshot eyes hardening with resolve. "Good luck."


	5. Chapter 5

Ahsoka tried meditating for the umpteenth time, but again found herself in Truth's presence instead.

The entity was expressionless, but at the same time both gentle and destructive. "You understand Equivalent Exchange now, don't you?"

"Yeah," Ahsoka said quietly. She looked at the entity, eyes narrowing as she recognised the white area. "Are you here to take anything _else_ from me?"

"No," Truth said simply. "You have not gone through the Gate, so until you do so there is no toll."

Ahsoka gave the entity a sad smile. "I'd rather not go through that again."

"Not many people would," Truth agreed. "The truth is a power unto itself, former Jedi. But it is far different from understanding. In a way everyone pays a price for the truth that is found out. Sometimes, the price is steeper than most. But no one seems to understand the suffering associated with it until they face the Gate." Truth frowned. "For you, the taboo you committed was out of sheer dumb luck."

Ahsoka sat down in front of the spectre. "I do not fully understand this taboo that you speak of."

Truth copied her actions. "Human transmutation. Bringing people back from the dead, for example," the phantom supplemented. "There are some outliers to this; take Anakin Skywalker for instance. Despite not being an alchemist he used the concept of Equivalent Exchange when bringing you back, trading the Daughter's life for yours."

"And so you allowed it," Ahsoka said simply.

"Correct."

"But neither the Daughter nor I were human. How could I have done the deed, given what I am?"

Truth sighed. "It is a generic name given to what is taboo because, most of the time, it is humans who commit the fallacy. A more accurate name would be 'sentient transmutation,' which I think warrants the same punishment, if not one _more_ severe. Human weakness is infamous for leading to major screw-ups in this universe, and unfortunately it engulfs other races in the process."

Ahsoka smirked. "I've noticed."

They stared at each other for a moment. "Is there anything else you wish to ask?"

Ahsoka stood. "Three questions. Why is it that you assert physiological punishment for the toll and claim that it is equivalent exchange? Why not use psychological lessons instead? Lastly, why can I communicate with you?"

Truth got to its feet. "I cannot answer the first two questions for you, Ahsoka Tano. But I can supply information for the third. Those who have been born strong with the Force can communicate with me. This encompasses even alchemists and witches such as the Nightsisters on Dathomir. You had asked earlier if this was similar to the World Between Worlds. It is. I have domain over both areas. Ashla and Bogan rule the cosmos and the energy within life itself. We are a triad of existential gods, Ahsoka Tano. We are the fundamental aspects of life itself."

Ahsoka nodded. "I appreciate your wisdom."

"And why is that?"

The Togruta lent a small smile. "Sometimes the truth is a good thing. It leads to a better understanding of the universe."

Truth nodded. "You are an interesting audience, Ahsoka Tano, I'll give you that."

Ahsoka blinked. She was back on the roof, the view of Liore and the starry sky before her. She sensed that she wasn't alone this time. She turned, noticing Alphonse and another man on the roof behind her. He was also human, with long gold hair and fiery gold eyes that were the same as his companion's. They glared at each other for a moment, daring the other to blink.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Edward held his stare with the woman, Ahsoka, for a moment, fire in both their eyes. It was ultimately she who blinked first. Edward had to use all of his self-control to keep from strangling her as he came to terms with reality. "Do you realise what you've done?"

"Yes, but it was out of ignorance," Ahsoka retorted. "How was I to know that I happened to be meditating and accidentally did that?" Her lip curled. "I know Sabine sent you to talk to me, but you're wasting your time," she snarled. "I don't want to talk about it! Please! _Leave me alone!_ " She raised her hand, and the brothers were thrown against the window. Edward checked to see if his brother was okay and turned a glare towards the woman. He was about to give her an angry response when Alphonse put a hand on his shoulder. "Brother."

He looked at Ahsoka, seeing the woman still glaring at them. Angry tears flowed down her cheeks—and Edward was immediately reminded of himself.

 _You won't take him, too! Give him back! Whether it be an arm or a leg, or even my heart, you can take it! Take it all! He's my only brother!_

The horrifying memory overtook him for a split second, tears falling down his face as he stood there in shock. He suddenly understood that the woman's outburst was not out of anger, as he had originally thought, but of pain. She _did_ lose something at the Gate, he realised. _Just like us._

Edward let go of his rage, only for it to be replaced by dread. He had to know if his realisation was correct, even if it more than likely was. "Truth took something from you, didn't he?"

Ahsoka looked at them, startled. For a moment, it seemed as though she was going to dodge the former alchemist's question.

 _You just_ had _to say that, didn't you? Now you'll never get any information fro-_

"My echolocation." The woman's voice was tinged with bitter sadness. "I spent over a decade failing to fulfil a promise to a friend. I said I would come find him. Now I can't find anything at all." She grimaced. "Not the way I normally do, anyway. I've been using the Force to compensate, but it's not the same." She looked at the Elric brothers knowingly. "So you two also pissed off that bastard?"

"If you mean we committed taboo, then yes," Alphonse confessed. Edward gave him a warning look. Even though the incident happened decades ago, he still didn't want to be overheard. "But we were kids," the younger Elric added quickly. "We hadn't known any better."

"Well, that's a load of crap," Ahsoka hissed. "Even as younglings, neither of you were as ignorant as I was! Both of you were genius alchemists at an early age, I can sense _that,_ Alphonse Elric! Surely you knew about the consequences!" She looked down, misery written all over her face. "What could you possibly hope to gain?"

The brothers gave each other a remorseful look before turning back to the non-human. "We missed our mother," Edward said quietly. "Our dad left us when we were very young. Mom died of an epidemic when I was five. Our neighbours took care of us, but it wasn't the same. We wanted her back, so we studied alchemy extensively to figure out how to do that. But we failed."

Ahsoka grimaced, likely wrapped up in a bad memory, for a brief moment. She then sighed, looking directly at them. "So what _did_ you lose?"

The brothers were startled at this question, even though it should not have come as a surprise. Alphonse gave the older sibling a small nod, indicating that it was okay to talk about the subject. "My leg, and my family," Edward said simply. "Al was the only family I had left. Truth took his body. I was able to attach his soul to a suit of armour, but that cost me an arm."

 _Give him back! He's my only brother!_

"So how did you get everything back?"

 _Don't do it! ALPHONSE!_

Flashbacks threatened to overwhelm him, but Edward managed to keep his composure. Barely.

"Not everything," Alphonse corrected her, saving the former alchemist from having to explain everything. "A coup broke out when we were teenagers. I sacrificed my soul in the fighting; Edward got his arm back as a result. He then gave up his ability to use alchemy in order to bring me back. It was an equivalent exchange."

"My leg's still gone," Edward added, rolling up his pants leg to reveal the metal prosthetic.

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes, likely figuring out that she wasn't being told everything, but didn't pry further. It was probably just as well; Edward did not want to relive those nightmare years.

"But you can still use alchemy, Alphonse?" Ahsoka asked.

"Yeah," the other brother confirmed.

Ahsoka got up, balancing herself carefully on the rooftop. "The Force works in mysterious ways. We are just people, but with strong talents. While you might not be able to use alchemy, your Force-sensitivity has never left you, Edward Elric. All three of us, and also Mei, share that in common. But the Force is as powerful as Truth, and just as complicated. Even I don't completely understand it."

Edward frowned. _That may be so, but even with that talent we're just the same as everyone else._ "Is there anything else? Like, for example, how you could complete human transmutation without being an alchemist?"

Ahsoka shrugged, although she stiffened at the words "transmutation" and "alchemist." "I didn't; I'm not human. It must have been a variant of it, for other races, but I have no idea how I got caught up in it. I got punished either way, that much is true. But in addition to that, I have been able to communicate with Truth outside of the Gate, through the Force."

Edward's jaw dropped. One look at Alphonse indicated the same reaction. "Are you nuts?" he spluttered.

"Probably. But whenever I meditate now, I end up in front of that spectre. It's not something I can control."

Edward pulled a face. "Next time you see that bastard, tell him Edward Elric said 'hello, you crazy son of a bitch.'"

Ahsoka was silent for a moment. A smirk soon appeared on her face.

"Something funny?"

"Truth said some things that I don't especially want to repeat. I didn't expect her to throw shade like that.'"

"Oh, really?"

"Ed, that's enough," Alphonse said sternly. "So she can communicate with that thing through the Force. In our case, that's probably a good thing."

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Edward had the same reaction. "What do you mean 'it's a good thing'? You know how often Truth fucked us over!"

"I know," Alphonse muttered. "But seeing as we're suddenly dealing with this problem all over again, it's prudent to make sure that she doesn't make the same mistakes we did." Edward knew he was referring to their adolescent obsession with finding the Philosopher's Stone. It was best the woman was never told about it.

"Agreed," Edward responded. He looked at Ahsoka, looking to set a few things straight with the offworlder. "Look, you can't keep denying that there is something wrong," he told her seriously. "I know you're shook up, but you have to get through this and move forward. That's the only way you'll be able to heal. You don't need to do this alone." He held out a hand. "We can help you through this. All you have to do is trust us."

Ahsoka was silent for a few moments before walking past them, slinking inside through the window. The brothers exchanged a glance. "She just needs time," Alphonse said.

"I know," Edward agreed, sweeping some hair out of his face. "But she's stubborn and frustrated. I don't know if we can do much more to get through to her."

"We have to try, Ed."

"I know we do." He looked up at the sky. _I hope we have learned from our mistakes this time. For their sake._


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Mei sat on the bed, looking out the window, watching the view of Liore's nightlife. The door opened and closed, and she sensed that Alphonse had returned. She turned around, noticing how tired the alchemist was. "You talked to her?"

Alphonse sat down beside her. A troubled expression was written all over his face. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I was right: she _did_ commit taboo. But she's also just as cagey and stubborn as Ed used to be, which is not a good thing."

"No kidding," Mei agreed, leaning down to rest her head on his shoulder. "I'm just glad you followed your gut on this one."

"As am I."

Mei glanced at him. _I remember how they were coping all those years ago. Alphonse was nothing but a soul in armour when we met, and Edward was fighting to protect him, but I knew they were both broken. The same holds true here now. The only difference is that they can help Ahsoka heal. She needs them, and Sabine. And me. The Togruta has to face these demons, but she doesn't have to do it alone._

Alphonse blinked, yawning. "What is it?"

"She needs us, Al," Mei stated firmly. Xiao Mei wandered over to them. Mei leaned over, scooping up the tiny panda in her hands. "No matter how broken she is, she shouldn't go through this alone."

"We're doing the best we can," Alphonse reassured her. "Like I told Ed, she needs time."

Mei nodded. "In that case, get some sleep. It's going to be hectic here on out."

Alphonse snorted. "Define hectic."

Mei smiled slightly. "Let's see…two aliens show up in town. The whole galaxy is in the middle of a cold war, and for all we know this whole planet could be caught up in it. There's a lot we don't know about this world by itself; the galaxy is full of mysteries to be solved." Mei's smile faded. "There's also the problem regarding how there was such a transmutation circle so far away from here."

Alphonse stood, head in his hands. "I know," he groaned. "Evidently there are alchemists outside of this planet that happened to get creative with transmuting sentient beings."

"But that's not just human, right?" Mei asked worriedly.

"That's pretty obvious, given that Ahsoka herself isn't human. Homunculi weren't even human to begin with. Hell, I spent five years as a soul in a suit of ar—"

Mei freed a hand, holding it up to silence him. "I get it, Al."

Alphonse nodded, leaning against the wall as he looked up at the ceiling. "I hate my life sometimes." The alchemist looked stress and worse for wear; Mei chalked that up to what happened with Ahsoka. The princess glared at him. " _Sleep,_ Alphonse."

The alchemist gave her a fulminating look but complied anyway as he crawled under the covers. Mei sighed. _Like I said, hectic._


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Morning came. Ahsoka emerged from the bedroom, only to smack right into a wall.

 _So this is how my day starts, isn't it? Well that's just great._

She made her way down the stairs, brewing a pot of coffee in the kitchen moments later. The Togruta leaned against the counter, well aware of the reminder that she had royally fucked up as the lack of echolocation continued to disturb her.

"I thought I smelled coffee."

Ahsoka turned, seeing Edward at the edge of the corridor. "It seems this is one of the constants regardless of where you are in the galaxy."

"Is that so?" Edward asked. "Is the rest of the galaxy really that much different from here?"

"Politically, yes," Ahsoka admitted. "But on the individual level, no. There's still people, life, animals, booze, caffeine, water, drugs—pretty much everything. Each world is unique in its own way."

"That's fascinating." Edward took out a few mugs from the cabinet. "I never thought there could be so much diversity outside of this place. Amestris is large enough as it is."

Ahsoka nodded, focusing more on making sure the coffee didn't burn. A couple of minutes passed before it was ready for pouring.

"Thanks," Edward said gratefully as he poured himself a cup. Ahsoka followed soon after, placing the pot back on the hot plate. They sat at the table, drinking their caffeine.

"Look, about last night—" Ahsoka said awkwardly. "I wasn't in my right mind; I don't normally behave like that. It's just—"

"A bad experience that you were unlucky enough to receive," Edward interrupted. "We know." His golden eyes narrowed. "How recent was it for you?"

Ahsoka looked down at her coffee, not wanting to think about it. "A few days."

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Ahsoka glanced at the Amestrian. "How much do you know?"

"Only what Sabine told us last night," Edward responded. "That you were meditating for a bit and everything went to hell from there." His expression grew serious. "It was the thing that attacked you that clued me in to what must have occurred."

Ahsoka shuddered. "I've seen all sorts of horrifying things over the past several years, but I had never seen anything as bad as _that._ "

"That's because the creature was the result of taboo gone wrong," Edward said grimly. "It happened to me, too. But my failure died within a moment of its creation." He frowned. "I didn't think they could do that."

"Then it looks like we're both surprised."

Edward took a swig of coffee before continuing. "I'd like to have a look at the transmutation circle, just to see what happened for you to have done it."

Ahsoka shook her head. "As much as I'd like to, Edward, we can't. The transmutation took place several parsecs away, in a forest on a completely different planet. Besides, our ship doesn't have enough fuel to make the journey. It's kind of why we're here."

"But we need all the information we can get to figure this out," Edward pointed out. "There's no way we can just allow the circle to just sit there and become useful to idiots who actually _want_ to try doing what we did."

 _Damn. What did we get ourselves into?_ "Good point," Ahsoka conceded after a moment. "In that case, we have no choice. We'll need a plan if we ever hope to get that bird off the ground."

"Bird?"

"Fine— _starship._ "

Edward shrugged. "Call it what you like. I was just wondering."

Ahsoka sensed that there was a lot on the man's mind. "What?"

Edward folded his arms. "How can I use the Force if I can't access my Gate of Truth?" he asked. "Surely you have to have one, right?"

"Not that I know of," Ahsoka responded, drinking some more coffee. "There is more than one way to use the Force. Alchemy is one of those ways, yes, but it is not the _only_ one. You can use it to enhance your senses, to sense others' feelings, and even for defence and telekinesis. It is up to you how you _choose_ to use it, Edward."

"If you say so." The former alchemist appeared sceptical. Ahsoka resisted the urge to sigh. _He just has to learn on his own time. As do the others._

"How did you sleep?" Edward had changed the subject.

 _Ah, now that's an interesting thing to talk about._ "I had to knock myself out just to get some peace from the nightmares." It had gotten so bad that she borrowed one of Sabine's blasters and instructed Xiao Mei to return it to the Mandalorian after she was done using it. She had stunned herself, not wanting Sabine to have to deal with another round of screaming. The Mandalorian hadn't known the full extent of what had happened, of course, and Ahsoka wanted to keep it that way. Even though the Mandalorian's inquisitive nature had not changed over the past several years, there were some things that were best to be kept secret. "I've lived through two galaxy-wide wars, but those were nothing compared to this."

"Well, you didn't have to face Truth, then, either," Edward pointed out, not unsympathetically.

Ahsoka did not meet his eyes. "No," she agreed. "But there were some truths I had uncovered that I wish I hadn't. Horrific ones. That's the price of war." She grimaced. "There's always a price for everything."

"But you have to move forward."

 _I know you're shook up, but you have to get through this and move forward. That's the only way you'll be able to heal. You don't need to do this alone._ Edward's words from the previous night rang in her head. Ahsoka sighed. However much she tried to hide from the situation, she knew the Elric brothers were right. She couldn't do this on her own. This wasn't the Purge. She needed everyone at her side—Sabine, Edward, Alphonse, Mei and her tiny companion. Edward was also right about another thing: they needed to reconstruct the situation and set things right. This didn't need to happen again.

She looked intently at him, eyes burning with renewed fire. "Yes. And I don't have to do this on my own. Not when I have all of you."

Edward grinned. Ahsoka allowed herself a small smile in return. She got up to pour herself another cup of coffee, feeling for the first time since the incident a sense of determination and hope.

 _The Force is with us._


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Mei awoke to the smell of coffee. She noticed the early time on the wall clock, wishing she could go back to sleep even though her senses had already started the waking process. Groaning slightly, she disentangled herself from Alphonse, put on a robe, and walked downstairs to the kitchen, hearing chatter as she got closer to the ground floor.

 _Who could be up_ this _early?_

She found her answer once she got to the base of the stairs. She rubbed her tired eyes, anxious to get the sleep dust out, noticing Edward and Ahsoka deep in conversation as her senses adjusted to wakefulness.

Mei smiled, leaning against the kitchen entrance. "Well, somebody seems to be feeling a bit better."

Both turned, Edward grinning upon noticing Mei. "Yeah, she's doing better. She even made coffee!"

"I can see that."

Ahsoka smiled. "Would you like to join us?"

Mei nodded, pouring herself some coffee before sitting at the table. "You two are up pretty early," she commented. "Any particular reason?"

Edward shrugged. "I only woke up for the coffee."

Mei turned to Ahsoka, raising an eyebrow. The Togruta's smile faded. "I didn't sleep well." She gave Mei a curious look. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Six-thirty-nine."

"It's fine, Mei," Edward reassured her. "Life starts before eight."

"Shut up, Edward." She glanced at them. "Any ideas on what to do today? I know you all are guests, but we can't just sit around and be lazy."

"We've been comparing notes about the Force and alchemy," Ahsoka explained. "He said you were skilled in—alkahestry?"

"Yep," Mei affirmed.

Ahsoka frowned, deep in thought. "Hmmm. If we combine our knowledge, there's a chance we can figure out how someone had the ability to design a transmutation circle so hidden that it would be impossible to detect until it was too late."

"You don't need to; it's happened before."

Mei turned, noticing Alphonse behind her. "How long were you—"

"Only a moment." He moved beside her. "I smell coffee." He walked over to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup. "What did I just miss?"

Edward relayed the past several moments to him, including information Mei assumed had been discussed before she had woken up. When he finished, the younger Elric nearly spat out his coffee. He looked at his brother, a pained expression on his face. "Edward, you're insane."

"What?" the older brother protested. "It's the logical thing to do!"

Alphonse drank additional coffee before proceeding to glare at him. "You're talking about going to another planet, very far away from here, with no guarantee of coming back alive."

Edward shrugged. "Yeah. So?"

Alphonse put his mug on the counter, facepalming. "If things were different, I'd be completely fine with it. In fact, I am fine with it. But it's _you_ I'm concerned about. For fuck's sake, Ed, _think_ about this! You have kids now! How do you think they would feel if their father didn't return home? How do you think Winry would feel?"

Edward looked away, not willing to meet his brother's eyes. Ahsoka gave the brothers a sympathetic look but stayed silent. Mei frowned. _That may be true, but what if that thing stayed? How many more people would end up like Ahsoka?_

After a moment, the older Elric finally looked up. His gold eyes burned with a fire that reminded Mei of the late Old Man Fu when he was on the front lines with his granddaughter, Lan Fan. It was a protective, paternal fire. "I'm doing this for _them_ , Al. This is for the galaxy, and possibly even the universe. If things don't work out, we'll be there together. If I die, so be it. But I'll be glad to die knowing that I did this to keep my family safe."


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Edward finished up his coffee, pondering the conversation that had happened moments earlier. Was he really prepared to die for his family?

 _Back when it was just Al and I, and I suppose Dad, too, once he eventually returned, all we had was each other. We kept sacrificing, one for the other. But Al is right; things_ are _different now. I don't want my kids to lose a parent at such a young age; I don't want them to repeat my mistakes. Then again, we don't have much of a choice. People will get hurt if that circle is left out in the open. It's like the nationwide transmutation circle all over again. Besides, we're all going to go eventually._

Edward remembered some of the things he had done in the years since he lost his alchemy. He caught a shark. He rode a camel in the desert. He got to marry the woman he loved and start a new family. He was still researching alchemy, even to this day. He was living life on his own terms.

Edward smiled mirthlessly. Alchemy. Everywhere he went it followed him, even though he himself could no longer use it. Despite what Ahsoka and Alphonse had told him about his abilities, Edward doubted he could ever use the Force at the same degree that _they_ could. Ever since he gave up his Gate of Truth, he could sense feelings and still had a heightened sensory awareness, but that was pretty much the extent of it. On occasion he had felt as though he _was_ another person, but he chalked that up to tired hallucinations that had to do with the aftermath of the Promised Day. Based on what he had learned about the Force, Edward came to the conclusion that his abilities were—likely permanently—diminished. That was fine with him.

However…

Edward got up. There was something he needed to do. He walked over to Alphonse, who was reading an alkahestry book.

"Something on your mind?" the younger Elric asked, glancing up from the pages.

"Yeah." Edward gave him a serious look. "I'm going to head out for a few hours. There are some things I need to mull over."

Alphonse nodded, a serious look in his eyes. "We'll wait for you."

Edward blinked, a sad smile on his face. Tears streamed down his face as he walked out the door. He held his head high, remembering his own words to someone else in this former town many years ago.

 _Stand up and walk. You've got two good legs, so get up and use them. You're strong enough to make your own path._

And so he walked, for he knew there was no turning back.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Sabine yawned. She blinked, noticing the sunlight coming in through the window. From the looks of it, she figured it had to be at least the middle of the afternoon. She went to grab her blasters from underneath the pillow, but she only found one.

"Strange," the Mandalorian mused. She checked behind the headrest, but there was no indication that something had fallen behind the bed in the middle of the night.

Her eyes narrowed. Something was up.

Something was also nudging against her leg.

Sabine looked down, noticing Xiao Mei, her missing blaster in the tiny panda's mouth. Sabine frowned, taking it from the creature. "Where'd you get this, little guy?"

Xiao Mei growled, as if she was trying to tell her something. She noticed her eyes, which seemed to display concern. Sabine closely inspected the blaster, noticing that it was set to stun.

"How—" Realisation dawned on her. She knew only one person here who could have stolen it from right under her nose.

Sabine gnashed her teeth. _Someone_ owed her an explanation. She glanced down, unclenching her jaw. "Thanks, Xiao Mei."

The Mandalorian ran to the stairs, slid down the railing, and ran into the common area, only to find it empty.

 _Well, shit._

Someone was knocking on the door. Sabine opened it, finding the long-haired man from the previous night. His gold eyes showed annoyed confusion, the expression combined with the start of a goatee on his face somehow reminding her a bit of Kanan whenever Ezra used to get into trouble.

"Where's Alphonse?" he asked.

Sabine shrugged. "Dunno; I just woke up. I'm actually looking for Ahsoka." She held up her formerly stolen blaster. "She stole this from me last night."

The man's eyes narrowed. "So _that's_ what she meant by having to knock herself out…"

Sabine quickly holstered the weapon. _I knew she wasn't fine. But—_ "She was feeling better yesterday, wasn't she?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Gold Eyes said. "However, what she went through isn't the kind of thing you can really talk about. She needs time to recover."

"What do you mean by this 'not being the kind of thing you can really talk about'?" Sabine protested. "She's my friend; I shouldn't be kept in the dark like this!"

"Yes, you should!" the man's voice was stern this time. "There are some secrets better off not knowing."

Sabine sighed. _I'm not going to get an answer out of anyone, am I?_ "Can you at least tell me that she will recover?"

"What do you take me for, a doctor?" the man retorted. "She _will_ recover. She'll just have scars."

"Right. Mental scars."

Gold Eyes shook his head. Sabine raised an eyebrow. "What?"

The man grimaced. "Don't tell her I told you this, but the pain is both mental and physical. It's bad. Really bad. But she'll get through this."

Sabine still wasn't convinced. "How do you know that?"

Gold Eyes sighed, rolling up the trousers leg on his left side. Where his leg should have been was a metal prosthetic. His eyes burned with fire. "My brother and I went through a similar experience. Your friend was luckier than we were."

"Your brother?" Sabine couldn't help but to ask.

The man blinked, letting the leg of his trousers drop. "Alphonse Elric." He walked into the house. Sabine shut the door, looking at him more closely. He appeared to be an older, longer-haired version of Alphonse. A weary look was prominent on his face.

"Sabine, right?"

The Mandalorian glanced at him. "Yeah. That's right."

Gold Eyes looked at her sympathetically. "I know you want to understand what Ahsoka is going through, but this is something you really shouldn't try to poke your nose into. You'll just get burned, and the scars are permanent."

"I know," the Mandalorian said quietly. "It's like the Rebellion all over again. Tonnes of secrecy. And back then, I questioned it, but we were at war against the Empire, so there wasn't much we _could_ know. But this isn't the same."

Gold Eyes frowned. "It isn't, but at the same time it is," he said grimly. "Some knowledge really can destroy you; this is one of those times where that saying is cold, hard fact. So, for your own good, please stay out of it."

Sabine looked away for a moment, annoyed. As much as she hated to admit it, Alphonse's brother had a point. Plus, they needed to stay alive long enough to continue the search for Ezra. She returned her gaze to his, nodding. "I understand."

"Good." Once satisfied with her response, Gold Eyes turned his gaze toward the door. "I wonder where everyone is. Al said they wouldn't leave without everyone."

Sabine looked at him, puzzled. "Leave? And go where?"

"The place where you got attacked by that creature."

Sabine froze. "Uh…pass. That place was a mistake to visit."

Gold Eyes leaned against the wall. "I'm aware," he said. "However, there's something over there that does have to do with the _…trap…_ Ahsoka got caught in. It concerns the safety of everyone in this part of the galaxy, Sabine. If we figure that out, there's a chance that we can prevent another incident like this from happening."

"I'm not convinced."

"Just trust me, Sabine."

The Mandalorian snorted. " _Trust_ you? I don't even know your name."

Gold Eyes sighed. "Fine. Edward. Edward Elric."

 _Well, that's a start, but I still don't know._ "Okay, Edward," she said slowly. "I'll follow your advice. But if you all get yourselves killed—"

"We won't. Not with you helping us out."

Sabine turned, hearing Ahsoka's voice. She narrowed her eyes at the Togruta. "You and I need to talk."

Ahsoka shrugged. "That's fine. Edward pretty much said most of what I was going to tell you anyway."

Edward looked taken aback. "How could you possibly hear us? You weren't even in the room at the time!"

"No," Ahsoka agreed. "Mei and I were helping your brother fix the antenna on the roof. My race has very good hearing, in addition to other senses."

"Like echolocation and a sort of internal gyroscope," Sabine muttered, nagging the Togruta again about her condition. "Those help with balance, right?"

Ahsoka stiffened. "Yes," she said, ice creeping into her voice. "Among other things."

Sabine raised an eyebrow. "What's gotten into you? All I was hinting at was for you to see a medic. You've got a problem with that?"

Ahsoka's expression showed a mixture of rage and annoyance. "That's none of your business!" she snapped.

"Then how can we expect to help you if we don't know what's wrong with you?" Sabine shot back.

Ahsoka sighed. "You already know what's wrong with me," she said in a low voice. There was still a bite present in her tone. "Yes, I got hurt over there. I got disoriented for days. Like Edward said, I have scars from it. But you shouldn't be concerned." Her tone grew gentler. "I'm no stranger to getting hurt. Nor am I a stranger to scars. You'll get a bunch of them eventually, especially if the cold war keeps regressing into a shit show. I know you want to find Ezra as much as I do, and that's a good part of why you're concerned like this. I get it. But we can't do anything if we constantly worry about each other or try to force each other to cut open old wounds." _Like the_ Duchess, _and my Academy days,_ Sabine thought bitterly. She pushed those thoughts out of the way, but Ahsoka had already noticed. "My point exactly," she said, though not unsympathetically.

"Fair enough," Sabine conceded. She smirked. "Just try not to get hurt again. It's not like we have a medical droid."

Ahsoka grinned at the dark humour. "I'll do my best."

"I was being serious."

The Togruta's grin faded. "Still." She glanced at Edward. "There are medical supplies in the area, right?"

"There should be," he responded. "Also, what's a droid?"

Sabine once again permitted a smirk. "You have a lot to learn, Edward Elric."


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

"Are we absolutely sure about this?"

Edward nodded. "It'll be okay, Al."

The younger Elric raised an eyebrow. "I'm not scared of space, if that's what you're thinking."

"Just checking."

"Are you ready to join the briefing yet?" Sabine asked, a slightly annoyed tone in her voice.

Alphonse frowned. "Shit. Yeah." He had forgotten why they had congregated in the common area in the first place.

Edward got up from the couch, stretching. "Let me guess: the plan is to find out the root of what attacked you two and destroy it. Sounds great, but it's pretty much guaranteed to go haywire."

"Which is why we'll more than likely end up winging it," Sabine told him.

"Fair."

"Well, it's a plan," Ahsoka cut in. "But first, we need to do a supply run before we can even _think_ about leaving. We need fuel and medicine, in addition to whatever provisions can be scrounged up so we don't go hungry."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Remind me: Wasn't this woman military at some point?" he whispered to Alphonse.

"Yep," the younger Elric whispered back. "Now, hush."

Alphonse listened to the rest of the briefing. Not much was talked about, just figuring out supplies. The meeting adjourned a few minutes later, and he laid down on the couch while everyone else went off to do their own thing. "This just keeps getting better and better."

"Yeah," Edward muttered. "In fact, maybe this would provide some information for both our research. Which I don't mind, really, but—"

The phone rang, breaking off their conversation. Edward frowned, walking to answer it. "Hello? Oh, hey, General—oh, _is it_ now? Pardon me, _Führer_ Mustang."

Alphonse raised an eyebrow. _When did_ he _get promoted?_

Edward got off the phone a moment later, looking slightly annoyed. Alphonse glanced at him. "I'm not going to ask _how_ he got my telephone number, or why it was you of all people who felt the need to answer my phone. What did Mustang want, anyway?"

Edward shrugged. "He just needs to talk to me about something. I might not be a State Alchemist anymore, but I am technically on call should the Führer need an extra hand."

 _Are you shitting me?_ "It's been nearly two decades, and I'm only finding out about this _now?_ " Alphonse muttered exasperatedly. "Why didn't you resign from the military after you turned in your state certification?"

"My request for resignation got denied."

Alphonse frowned. "How come?"

"At the time, Grumman only had a few people he could trust after the Promised Day," Edward explained. "He gave me leave and kept me on as an informant, but the trick was I had to make it _look_ as though I had completely returned to civilian life since I was too well-known within the top brass."

"Okay…" Alphonse was still trying to process this. "Whatever."

Edward's eyes narrowed, noticing the passive-aggressiveness in his brother's tone. He wisely chose not to say anything about it, and walked outside, saying that he would be in the city centre if anyone needed him.

Alphonse frowned. _Geez, Ed. I know you wanted to protect me and all, but you could have told me you were still involved with the military. We're not kids anymore. I'm not judging you._

He sighed. It didn't matter one way or the other; Edward could do whatever he felt was necessary. He just hoped that the Führer didn't need his brother for anything _too_ important right now.

* * *

Edward found Mustang in a bar, wearing normal clothes for once, in addition to what was presumably his military uniform in a black, opaque garment bag next to him. He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I didn't expect _you_ of all people to have a day off."

Führer-President Roy Mustang turned towards him, grinning. "Some people just need a break from paperwork." He gestured to the table. "Please, have a seat."

Edward obliged. Twenty years earlier, he would have screamed bloody murder at the then-Colonel. Thankfully, he had matured since then. "Over the phone, it sounded as though you had something rather important to tell me."

"I'm afraid so," Mustang admitted. "How much do you know about the galactic cold war, Fullmetal?"

"Only a little bit," Edward supplied. He didn't bother to ask why he was being referred to by his old title. "Why do you ask?"

Mustang took a swig of alcohol. "A few years ago, I was contacted by an anonymous source and informed of what became of the second pangalactic war that this place has been ignorant of. I've been spending the time since both learning about the inner galaxy and keeping up with my military duties. Ever since the Empire fell, the remaining forces have been taking refuge in this sector." The Führer put his glass on the table, an annoyed expression on his face. "I don't know _what_ the Imperials are doing, but they're being secretive as all hell about it. Rumour has it they're calling themselves the 'First Order'." Mustang leaned back against his seat. "Even though people say they know for certain, they really don't. It's just a rumour. _Who knows_ what's happening."

"How is it our problem, exactly?"

"Apart from conspiracy theorists in Central raising hell, it isn't—yet," Mustang said seriously. "However, the source also said something particularly alarming: taboo is being committed on other worlds." Edward looked at the leader of Amestris with both horror and surprise as he continued. "Somehow, various alchemists have gotten it in their minds that if they left this place and performed human transmutation on other planets, they would be safe from Truth."

Edward's hackles raised. "Idiots."

"That's not the worst of it," the Führer continued. "These alchemists have been transmuting rockets out of munitions and military weaponry in order to get there, and then use those devices to latch on to orbiting vessels so they can get transported to different parts of the sector. Those that get detected have forced the ships down into the atmosphere and caused mass casualties; a lot of the time these forced landings wind up in Amestrian territory. We've caught several of these morons in the act on military bases, yet it's damned near impossible to nail them all. Innocent people, other Force-sensitives, have been getting hurt on other worlds because their abilities are in the same branch as alchemy. It's certainly gotten the Imperial Remnant's attention."

"So you called me because you couldn't get your shit together, as usual," Edward deadpanned.

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "There were about a thousand other ways to say it, Fullmetal, but you pretty much nailed it."

Edward leaned back against his seat. _I figured as much._ "So, what do you want me to do, Führer?"

"Whatever you can," Mustang told him. "Get Alphonse to help if at all possible. These people could be Drachman spies, and we need all the help we can get whether or not that's the case. I already asked your wife about this; she told me to personally inform you that, quote, 'If Edward comes back home without making sure people are safe, I will kill him for being so selfish.' End quote."

Edward sighed. _Damn it._ "That's Winry, all right." He glanced up at the Führer. "Did she say anything else?"

"Just that she and the kids will be fine," Mustang reassured him. "But seriously, Fullmetal, keep in touch with them."

"Of course I will, bastard," Edward muttered, his old tendencies kicking in. _Considering they're practically teenagers now, "kid" is not a word I would use to describe them._ "Why did these people bother talking to _you_ in the first place?"

"Hell if I know," Mustang retorted. "Don't ask me _how_ I managed to get the attention of some talkative offworlders. Near as I can tell, this world is safe from the Remnant. I didn't ask what the source wanted with me, but it took a lot of convincing to get me to believe them."

"I see," Edward said slowly, changing the subject. "You know, you didn't have to bring your military uniform in with you, Mustang."

Mustang grimaced, a pained look on his face. "No, Fullmetal," he said slowly. "I'm afraid this is… _your_ uniform."

Edward's eyes widened. _"What?!"_

"I had this made for you personally, Edward," Mustang said quietly. "Your leave has just ended."

"But why now?"

"It's gotten worse," Mustang said grimly. "The military's got its hands full with the miscreants in addition to elevated skirmishes with Drachma. We've sent reinforcements to Briggs and its surrounding areas, but we're dangerously close to all-out war."

"Aren't we always at war against those guys?" Edward queried.

"Most of the time," Mustang said wearily. "However, this time is different. All the diplomatic options that we've tried in the past sixteen years have failed. They have refused to talk to us, and rumour at Briggs says they have somehow managed to significantly upgrade their weapons systems. General Armstrong has told me that she'd sent out scouts, but none have returned alive. There is uncertainty about whether or not the wall can hold against Drachman forces at this rate. That being said, I need all forces to assist her in any way possible, and as of right now that includes you."

 _I see. I guess I'm needed now._ Edward glanced at the Führer. "Al and I are already working on something related to the incidents," he informed his superior. He explained how Alphonse and Mei had run into Ahsoka and Sabine, and how the brothers ultimately learned of the trap that the non-human had gotten caught in several parsecs away. "If we destroy the transmutation circle, then that world is safe. It'll be a start, sir."

Mustang was speechless for a moment. Edward raised an eyebrow, a small grin on his face. _That's probably the first time I've ever called him "sir." I'll have to admit, I'm a bit surprised at myself. But the past is the past. We're both adults; we might as well treat each other as such._

The Führer broke into laughter, Edward soon joining him. It was a few minutes before the two were able to calm down long enough to talk. "Oh, how much you've changed, Fullmetal," Mustang said jovially, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "I'll have to admit, I didn't see _that_ coming."

"Neither did I." Edward's grin faded. "But, seriously, what are your thoughts?"

Mustang sighed. "Just get your ass back to this planet in one piece. The same goes for everyone else travelling with you. I want a full report upon your return. That's an order."

"Affirmative." Edward tilted his head slightly. "Do you have any other advice for me?"

" _Don't_ provoke the Remnant if you happen to run into anyone associated with it," Mustang said sternly. "We don't know what's going on with them right now, and it's better not to cause any trouble if there's none necessary."

"Got it." Edward smirked, sensing a need for alcohol emitting from Mustang. It was starting to rub off on him, too. In fact, for a split second it was almost as though he _was_ Mustang himself, although the notion itself was preposterous. The hallucinatory experience didn't exactly appeal to him, but he dismissed it as he glanced back up at Amestris's leader. "Do you want another drink, Führer?"

"Were you reading my mind, Fullmetal?"

Edward shrugged. "I sensed you wanted to get drunk. I can't explain how; I've been feeling others' sensations of feeling, et cetera, even more so ever since I lost my alchemy. It's as though I got something in return in addition to Al."

"Just be glad you have that." Mustang gestured for the nearest waitress to approach. "Two strong ones for myself and my subordinate."

Edward found himself staring bemusedly at his superior as the waitress went to fulfil the Führer's request. "All I said was that _you_ wanted to get drunk."

"It's more fun with comrades, Fullmetal. Granted Hawkeye will kill me if she finds me back in Central inebriated, but still, what the hell, right?"

"Whatever you say, Führer." Edward frowned. "Who's in charge while you're here, anyway?"

"Both Hawkeye _and_ Alex Louis Armstrong."

The former alchemist grinned. "Yeah. You're fucked."

Mustang waved dismissively. "I'll live." The drinks arrived, Mustang thanking the waitress as she placed the alcohol on the table. "Drinks are on me," he told Edward as the waitress left to fulfil another order.

Edward recognised the liqueur immediately, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know you liked whiskey, Führer."

"The woman who adopted me used to own a brothel," Mustang reminded him. "I've been well-versed in alcoholic beverages."

"Well, you've got good taste." Edward changed the subject again. "I wasn't aware of your promotion. Congratulations."

Mustang shrugged. "Grumman felt a retirement was necessary, given his old age. I simply took his place, as of last month."

"And yet you're in here, getting drunk while Hawkeye is kept in the dark," Edward tsked. He took a swig of whiskey, the burning sensation travelling down his throat. "Damn, this _is_ strong."

Mustang smirked. "That reminds me…you still owe me five hundred twenty cenz."

Edward gave him a look. "Nineteen years later, and you _still_ remember." He put the change on the table, and Mustang scooped it up into his palm.

 _There's still a lot that's not being said._

The former alchemist raised an eyebrow. "About your source…who did you tell, besides me?"

"Just the usual team."

Edward's jaw dropped. "And nobody thought to tell Grumman?"

Mustang rolled his eyes. "He had enough on his plate, rebuilding the government from the ground up. Let's just say I inherited some of _those_ problems from him, including the transgressors and the Drachma conflict." He held up a glass, a serene expression on his face. "Welcome back to the military, Lieutenant Colonel Elric."

Edward looked at him, stunned, accepting the toast. "I'm gone for nearly twenty years, and you give me a promotion?"

Mustang grinned. "Your exploits have long since warranted it. Besides, I didn't have a good reason to demote you from the rank of Major, not since I've been keeping tabs on you and found you to still be in good standing."

"I-I'm honoured, Führer-President. Thank you."

"You can thank me by getting rid of that abomination of a transmutation circle," Mustang retorted. "We both know what it'll be like if there's even _one_ of those left standing."

Edward nodded grimly. Neither of them wanted to repeat the experience. He took another swig. "We'll take care of it, sir."

"I know you will." Mustang chugged part of his own drink. "Now, let's talk about your military training…"


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Edward wasn't quite sure how he was able to walk back to the cottage, even with the extra baggage, but he managed. He knocked on the door, falling on his face as soon as it opened. He felt a strong set of arms help him up, and he leaned heavily on whoever it was for support until he collapsed on the sofa. The room looked weird, and there was this funny feeling in his brain that he wasn't all there.

"Did you seriously get drunk, Ed?"

 _Al. That was Al._ Edward turned to face a figure he presumed to be his brother, grinning. "I guess I did," he slurred. "Maybe I had a little bit too much…"

"You think?" The younger Elric sounded pissed. "You went to talk to Mustang, and you come home at one in the morning _dead drunk?_ "

"We met in a bar," Edward said defensively, though it sounded more like whining in his current state. "It was _his_ idea."

"I don't care _whose_ idea it was," Alphonse said sternly. "It was not a good one, Ed."

"Neither is life."

"Do you really want to do this right now?" Alphonse sighed. "How bad does your stomach feel?"

"Not very bad, at the moment. My head feels weird, though. I'm not completely here, Al."

"That's obvious. Okay, get some rest. It'll be fine."

"I'm not fine."

"You haven't been fine since you were ten years old, idiot!" Alphonse snarled.

Edward's eyes widened. His inebriated brain couldn't process the information as quickly as it was normally able to, but that was just as well. He might have strangled his brother for saying something so uncalled for. "Neither have you," he retorted drunkenly.

Alphonse said something, but Edward's brain didn't register the information. He blinked. When he turned to look at his brother, he wasn't there, and the sun was shining through the windows. He felt better somehow; perhaps it was the whiskey wearing off.

"Sober, are we?"

Edward sat up, looking straight at Sabine. "I hope so." His voice was steadier now, and he could think more clearly. "Wasn't it just dark outside?"

"Nope. You were passed out for at least sixteen hours. Good thing there wasn't a puking session involved, or else there would have been a _real_ mess to worry about."

 _Sixteen…hours?_ "I don't remember…"

"You managed to get blackout drunk somehow," the purple-haired woman explained. "I don't know how you found your way back here, but you did."

"Wonderful." He frowned. "Al?"

"He went on another supply run with Mei." Sabine leaned on the sofa. "He's still pissed about what happened before dawn."

Edward looked at her, confused. "Come again?"

"He let you in and gave you quite the lecture when you were intoxicated," Sabine prompted.

 _Oh. That._ "I only remember bits and pieces of it," he admitted.

"Maybe that's for the best."

Edward shrugged. He looked up at the ceiling, tiredness and an urge to relieve himself simultaneously taking over. He ran to the bathroom, emerging minutes later in a much better state.

"At least I'm sober now," he muttered, walking back into the common area. "Coffee?"

"Hell no," Sabine retorted. "I'll make you some tea instead. It'll be easier on your stomach," she added, noticing that Edward was about to protest.

"Whatever." _At least it's not milk._ He thought about the previous night. Sooner or later, war was going to happen. He didn't know the full extent of the conflict, but if it really was as bad as Mustang had said then things were going to get real complicated real fast.

"Here."

Edward looked up, noticing that Sabine had his tea in front of him. He took it gratefully. "Thank you, Sabine."

"Yeah, you're welcome." She sat down next to him, concern in her eyes. "Look, Edward. I don't know what happened out there last night but getting drunk on the job was not what any of us were expecting."

"I met with the leader of Amestris in a bar. He started a tab. You get the idea."

"Yeah, but…" Sabine frowned. "Whatever it was, it must have been pretty serious if he wanted to meet with you so badly. What are you to him?"

"I used to be a State Alchemist, so that meant I was involved with the military for a time," Edward explained. He looked down at his tea. "Even after that, I was on leave for the past eighteen years as a soldier, constantly doing research." His expression darkened. "Amestris is getting closer and closer to yet another war with Drachma, one of the neighbouring countries that happens to hate us. My leave just ended, so there's a good chance I'll be on the front lines despite being given the green light to get the hell off this planet."

Sabine's eyes widened. "I see. No wonder you got so drunk."

"It's not that bad," Edward said dismissively. "I have a far more important mission than the coming war. Once we get back here, things are going to be busy."

"Have you told your brother about this yet?"

"Not yet. I was kind of out of it last night, remember?"

Sabine nodded. "Okay. But this is serious. We don't even know if we'll make it back here in one piece."

"I don't care how many pieces we come back in, just so long as we _do_ come back," Edward retorted. "When do we leave?"

"If everything goes well, we're looking at another three days, at most."

"Great."

The door slammed open. "I just finished transmuting the last of the fuel," Alphonse announced, walking inside. Dark circles were present under his eyes, clearly indicating exhaustion and lack of sleep. "Ahsoka said we can leave tonight."

Sabine raised an eyebrow. "That was quick."

Alphonse shrugged. "Luckily all we had to do was refine the gasoline into liquid tibanna. _Moving_ the fuel, though…That was a pain in the ass."

"Get used to it," Sabine snapped.

Edward smirked slightly. Alphonse noticed, annoyed. "Quit being a smart-ass, Ed."

Edward held his hands up in self-defence. "I didn't say anything."

Alphonse pulled a face. "Midget."

Edward glared at him, the misnomer getting on his nerves. "Who are _you_ calling short? I'm taller than I used to be, dumbass!"

"Just wanted to piss you off," Alphonse sniped. "Clearly, it's working."

Sabine gritted her teeth, pulling out her guns, pointing them at both brothers. "All right, that's enough!" she snarled. "One more outburst from either of you and I'll stun your ass! Got it?"

The brothers exchanged exasperated looks at each other. "Yeah," they muttered.

Sabine holstered her guns, satisfied. "Good. Now I don't know what happened between you two but we're all adults here. Act like it." She left, leaving the brothers looking dumbstruck at each other.

"What's with her?" Edward asked.

"Beats me," Alphonse shrugged. "Everybody's been on edge the past several hours, myself included."

"That much was obvious."

Alphonse looked towards the window. "She kind of reminded me of Sensei just now."

Edward smiled with melancholy, remembering the woman who had trained them in alchemy and combat. "Yeah. Except Sabine didn't leave us on an island for a month."

"That _was_ a time."

The awkward conversation ceased. Edward walked toward the window, looking at the sky. It was already late afternoon; their mission would begin soon.

"We should get ready."

Alphonse nodded. Edward packed his briefcase, removing one of a few guns he had purchased years earlier. He had originally acquired them to defend himself since he no longer had alchemy, and he saw that the same concept would inevitably apply. He placed it in his coat pocket, closing the briefcase shut over the rest. On top of the briefcase was the garment bag that Mustang had given him the night before. He walked out of the room, seeing that Alphonse was ready to go as well. An hour passed before Ahsoka signalled for them to leave; to pass the time he'd called Winry and talked with her and the kids—well, _teenager,_ in his son's case; his daughter still had a few months before she turned thirteen—for about twenty minutes. He hoped it wouldn't be the last time he'd get to talk to them.

They walked outside, Alphonse locking the door, heading toward the wooded area that housed the starship.

"This is it," Mei said excitedly. The princess was armed with twin katanas, and probably a few more things, judging from the fact that Xing had more than a few tricks up its sleeve when it came to weapons manufacturing. Alphonse grinned. "Yeah. It'll be interesting."

Edward was about to respond when a noise stopped him in his tracks. It was chilling, reverberating in his soul.

"Did you hear that?"

Mei tilted her head curiously. "Hear what?"

Edward glanced at Alphonse. The younger Elric shook his head. "I didn't hear anything."

The noise sounded again. He looked at the other two, who just stared back at him in confusion.

 _That's weird._ Edward frowned. "You two go on ahead. I'll catch up."

Alphonse raised an eyebrow. "Okay…"

Edward nodded, and the two left.

The former alchemist looked into the trees, trying to pinpoint where the noise was coming from. It sounded off again, from a tree to Edward's left. It sounded avian.

He walked toward the ship, shaking his head bemusedly. _It's just a damn bird. Nothing to worry about._

Edward walked for a few more klicks, noticing the starship only about ten metres away. Mei and Alphonse were already getting on board.

The soul-shaking noise sounded again, much more hauntingly this time. Edward turned around, pinpointing the noise to a tree to his left.

"Oi, Ed!" Alphonse hollered. "Are you coming?"

Edward nodded, not taking his eyes off the tree. He could feel something was amiss. "Yeah; give me a moment." He walked toward it, hearing the call of a bird. Normally, it wouldn't have worried him, but unease started to kick in. A black shadow flew to the branch closest to him, and Edward knew that it was the same bird— _No, not just a bird,_ Edward realised, upon looking closer. The same _raven_. It cawed, eyes boring into his soul.

Edward looked at the bird curiously, wondering why it was so interested in him.

"ED! ARE YOU COMING OR NOT?"

Edward broke his stare, leaving the bird as he walked to the ship. " _OF COURSE_ I'M COMING, AL!" He quickened his pace, not wanting to keep the others waiting much longer.

"Glad you could make it," Mei said as he boarded, turning. "We're ready, Sabine."

"About time," the offworlder responded. "You three might want to hold on to something."

"What—" Alphonse started, but the ship started its quick ascent. Edward grasped the nearest seat, adrenaline keeping him on high alert. After a moment, they slowed.

"Hey, Ed," Alphonse called. "Come take a look at this."

Reluctantly, Edward let go of the seat and walked to the bridge. Unexpected tears ran down his face as he saw the stars outside, countless, realising that he was among them in the vastness of the universe.

"You okay, Edward?" Sabine asked, turning around in her seat.

"Y-Yeah," Edward murmured, taking in the sight. "It's so…strange, yet so beautiful at the same time."

"It only gets better from here." The woman pushed a lever, and the sound of the ship's engines changed. Edward noticed the stars condense into bright streaks, and the ship moved, much faster than before, until stabilising seconds later. Said streaks eventually gave way to a magnificent tunnel of blue starlight.

"Whoa," Alphonse breathed.

Ahsoka turned around to face them. "Welcome to hyperspace."

Alphonse and Mei began chatting excitedly about the concept of interstellar travel, mainly about how cool it was, but Edward didn't bother to listen in. He sat down, wiping fresh tears from his face.

"Why am I crying?" he whispered, voice filled with a mix of melancholy and confusion.

 _You know why._

 _You miss your family still stuck on Hagane._

 _When you come back, there will be suffering. And you will question whether or not you should have stayed._

He hung his head, eyes narrowing. _However this may end, things will never be the same. The galaxy is a dangerous frontier on its own level; who knows if we'll make it. But we have to—for their sake._


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Warning: Mentions of DUI later on in the chapter. Even if the vehicle is on autopilot, _DO NOT_ use alcohol behind the wheel. Drive safely.

* * *

 _Edward sat on a tree branch, keeping watch in the snowy forests of Drachma. He glanced down at his men, all of whom were asleep from exhaustion. The Lieutenant Colonel looked around, glancing at the night sky. It was almost peaceful, if one could discount the fact that there was a war going on, and that they were currently in enemy territory. His Amestrian military uniform shielded him from the breeze, but it did not shield him from the chill in his soul. A bird cawed, landing in front of him. He recognised it as a raven and was certain that it was the very same bird he had seen just before he had left on the off-world mission. He looked at it curiously. The raven cawed: "Three months."_

 _Edward's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"_

 _The raven cawed again: "Three months."_

 _Edward sighed. "I'm going crazy, talking to a damn bird."_

" _Three months. The demons of the forest kill. Three months, Edward Elric."_

* * *

Edward gasped, blinking. He was back in the starship, in the stateroom where he had crashed hours earlier. It had only been a dream, yet it had felt more meaningful to him than others. He sat up, thinking about the raven's words. _Three months. The demons of the forest kill. What could that possibly mean? I'm so confused._

"Ed?"

Edward jumped, startled, only to relax once he saw his brother. "Oh. Hey, Al."

Alphonse frowned. His eyes were tired; he must have only just woken up moments ago. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

Edward stood, stretching. His neck cracked slightly, but that was only from stiffness. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Don't dodge the question, Ed," Alphonse retorted sternly. "I need to know."

A dangerous aura radiated from the younger Elric. Despite the tired look, Edward realised his brother was actually pissed. Again.

Edward faced his brother, arms in a placating gesture. "Al—"

Without hesitation, Alphonse transmuted the floor, steel tendrils binding Edward where he stood. Edward glared at him. "Are you crazy?!"

Alphonse's gold eyes showed no warmth, which bothered the hell out of the older Elric. He had not seen his brother act like this in years. "Is it true?" Alphonse hissed, a note of fear in his voice. "Is it true you're going to war?"

 _Is that what this is all about?_ Edward sighed. "Yeah. Your point?"

Alphonse stepped backward, hands running through his short hair in panic. Edward winced at the pain as the tendrils tightened more around him. "Who told you?" he asked, current suffering evident in his tone.

"Sabine." He walked up to Edward. "Why didn't _you_ tell me this?"

"I only just found out about it, and I was drunk at the time, so you didn't give me a lot of time to talk," Edward retorted.

Alphonse shrugged. "Okay. Fine."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Can you let me out of this? It's not like I can transmute anything, you know."

"I'll get to it in a bit."

"Seriously, Al?" Edward looked at him exasperatedly. "What's gotten into you lately? This isn't like you!"

Alphonse grimaced. The younger sibling relaxed after a moment. "You're right. I'm sorry." He walked over, placing his hands on the tendrils, transmuting them back into the floor. Edward landed on all fours, panting as air flowed more easily into his lungs. His brother helped him back on to the bed, refusing to meet his eyes.

Edward looked at him, concerned. "What?"

"Nothing," Alphonse dismissed, though Edward could sense that he was lying. The younger sibling finally faced towards him, a spark lighting up in his eyes. "I found something during my research; I've been meaning to show this to you for a few years now, but I haven't had the chance."

Edward grinned. _Yes. Alchemy._ He had been waiting to geek out about the field with his brother for a while now. "What is it? What did you find?"

"This." Alphonse reached into his pocket, pulling out a glass pyramid. For some reason, the red-and-black figurine made the older sibling feel sick just _looking_ at it. He couldn't explain it. Edward's lip curled. "What _is_ that?"

"Some sort of alchemical database," Alphonse told him. "What's interesting is that it's not alchemy from our world, but closer to the galactic core."

"That thing makes me feel ill the longer I look at it." Edward looked at his brother incredulously. "How can you put up with it?"

"I don't open it often. It's not information I fully understand, but it's alchemy of a stranger nature."

"Then why bother researching it if you don't _use_ the damn thing?"

"It's complicated. I had initially thought it was alchemy from one of the nations east of Xing when I found it," Alphonse explained. "I was able to open it after a while, but it wasn't by alchemical means. That's what took so long to figure out; it was the energy from my very _being,_ from the Force, that opened it, not alchemy. I'd realised that I had stumbled onto something I couldn't explain and asked a few merchants about it. That's how I had learned about the Force in the first place."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"You were on the other side of the world," Alphonse reminded him dryly.

Edward smiled sadly. "It seems we both have our secrets."

Alphonse nodded. "I guess we do." He held the pyramid in his hands. "I want to show you something." The younger Elric closed his eyes. The pyramid glowed crimson, and the device floated in mid-air, breaking apart to reveal a database full of alchemical techniques as the room was bathed in a blood-red light.

Edward looked at the information, awestruck. "This is incredible," he breathed. He recognised some drawings within the information that came up. "Those; whoever studied this type of alchemy looks to have done some research on human transmutation!"

The database paused on those images. Alphonse shook his head. "Not just human. Look." He pointed at another, albeit very similar, transmutation circle. "This circle is modified somehow; probably to account for other sentient races. But it still appears to be taboo even here."

"It makes sense, though!" Edward pointed out excitedly. "This explains a lot about what happened to Ahsoka! We should tell her—" He faltered, noticing a sinister look in his brother's eyes. Dread coursed through him as he connected the dark expression to the feeling emanating from the pyramid. "On second thought, I think you should close it," he said seriously.

"Why?" Alphonse questioned. "We have the information right here; we can use it to understand more about—"

"Alphonse." Edward cut him off, a severe look on his face. "Damn it, brother, that thing is _corrupting_ you. _Close_ it!"

Alphonse sighed. The pyramid closed, crimson light gone from the room. The seemingly innocent database made Edward feel even _more_ sick despite the knowledge it contained as it dropped to the floor. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"I don't get it, though," Edward muttered. "How can a _database_ do something like this?"

"Beats me." Alphonse pocketed the device.

"Well—"

The door opened forcefully, revealing Ahsoka, eyes wide with a mix of concern and…was that dread? As soon as she saw the coast was clear, she relaxed. She then glanced at them sharply. "Is everything okay?"

Edward blinked. "Everything's fine. Al and I were just arguing again, that's all."

Alphonse raised an eyebrow. Ahsoka noticed the floor, glaring at the brothers. "What the hell happened to my ship?"

Dread coursed throughout Edward's body. _Crap. She's got the same look on her face as Winry does whenever I damage my automail..._ He pointed at the alchemist next to him. "He transmuted it—"

"Just the floor," Alphonse said hastily.

Ahsoka facepalmed, directing her ire at the younger sibling. "Idiot! You could have gotten us all killed!"

"Are we still in hyperspace?" Edward asked.

"Yes," Ahsoka snapped. "Given the velocity we're travelling at the ship could have blown up!" She sighed. "We're alive, that's all that matters at the moment." A nervous expression developed on her face as she eyed the younger Elric. "Alphonse, may I have a word with you?"

The brothers exchanged worried looks. Alphonse followed the non-human out the door as Edward watched. He laid back down on the bed, pondering both the raven and the database. _Three months._ He didn't know what was going to happen within that timeframe, but things were already getting crazy only a few _days_ in. He closed his eyes, hoping for sleep. Darkness soon came over him in a dreamless haze. The next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by his brother. Edward groaned. "How'd it go?"

"About as well as you'd think," the younger Elric muttered in annoyance. "She was _really_ pissed."

"Given the stunt you pulled with her vehicle, I'm not surprised," Edward responded, still in the process of waking up. "How long was I asleep?"

"A few hours." Alphonse groaned. "I think I'm in trouble."

"Yeah, yeah," Edward muttered, waving a hand. "What's done is done. Did she at least say what that pyramid was?"

"A Sith holocron."

"A Sith what, now?"

Alphonse frowned. "Holocron. According to Ahsoka, the Jedi and the Sith used them as databases for various bits and pieces of information. Some Sith holocrons, such as this one, are pretty much corrupted and actually contain the _soul_ of the Sith that created it, and those souls in turn try to corrupt others to the dark side."

Edward sat bolt upright, a look of sheer terror in his eyes as he processed the information. _Corrupted…? Shit. This is really, really bad._ He didn't know much about the dark side, but if it was what he _thought_ it was…

"I won't let that happen to you," Edward said firmly. "Not if I can help it."

"There's nothing you can do about it," Alphonse retorted. "This is my responsibility, and mine alone. I might already be gone. I don't know!" The panic in the younger Elric's voice escalated. "I've had this thing for the better part of _seven years,_ Ed, and I'm just now finding out what it's _doing_ to me!"

"Just hold on, okay?" Edward pleaded. "We'll figure something out, Al. Please; see sense here."

Alphonse stretched, neck cracking from stiffness. The panicked look on his face was gone for the moment. "I'll try, but it's pretty obvious that the odds are not in my favour."

Edward nodded. Alphonse made to leave, but Edward stopped him. "Just promise me one thing: You won't go dark, so long as we're alive together."

Alphonse looked at him for a brief moment, startled, then smiled. "I can live with that promise."

* * *

Hyperspace was both entrancing and hauntingly beautiful, the blue light shining in the bridge with a gentle glow. Edward stood where he could get a good look at the view, thinking about what was happening to his brother.

 _I might already be gone,_ Alphonse had said. Edward thought about this. There were times when Alphonse seemed like himself, kind and curious. After spending a few days with him for the first time in a few years, Edward realised that his brother really was starting to change, and not for the better. Alphonse had developed an aggressive nature—which was the last thing Edward could have expected from him—and just hours earlier the younger Elric had been cold and ruthless. Even so, Edward could see that the alchemist's kinder side was still intact for the time being, in spite of the subtle changes in personality.

 _I won't let that happen to you. Not if I can help it._

 _There's nothing you can do about it._

 _Just promise me one thing: You won't go dark, so long as we're alive together._

The fateful conversation from two hours previous kept replaying in his head. Edward realised he had to stay alive, not just because war was on the horizon and not just because he had children to take care of, but it was also because that promise was the only thing saving Alphonse's soul, no matter how temporary it was.

 _I guess it really is Equivalent Exchange,_ Edward thought. _My life for Al's soul. Again._

Edward stroked his chin, frowning. He had taken the time to shave off the goatee in the ship's refresher, preferring sideburns to that furry stump of a beard. Why beards absolutely _had_ to be so hairy and weird-looking was beyond his understanding, even though he had seen many men his age and older sporting them.

"You're up?"

Edward looked down, noticing Sabine in the pilot's chair. The woman had turned around to face him.

His eyes widened in terror. "KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE SPACE! WE'LL CRASH!"

Sabine laughed. "Relax; I put the ship on autopilot. She's flying herself. We'll be okay."

Edward heaved a sigh of relief.

"I didn't think anyone was up this early."

Edward folded his arms. "I've been here for at least half an hour, Sabine."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "You must be _really_ silent, then. I didn't hear you come in."

"Whatever." On the dashboard, a device that appeared to be a chronometer read _0319._ It didn't _feel_ like it was three in the morning, especially since they had left sometime after 1700 or 1730 the previous day, but Edward figured the Amestrian time zone had to differ by at least several hours. He had only managed to get another hour of sleep in before he had given up; thoughts about Alphonse, the raven, and the mission had kept him wide awake.

Things were just so sudden, and so…weird.

"So…" Edward noticed the empty co-pilot chair, and promptly sat down in it. The console was just so foreign to him, even with the fact that this was so much more hi-tech than the trains and automobiles on his home planet were. "You told him."

Sabine winced. "Yeah. I was having a drinking episode earlier; he was ranting to me about how _you_ got drunk, not to mention lecturing me about having vodka in the pilot's seat even though I set the ship on autopilot."

Edward frowned. "He does have a point, you know. Drinking and driving is not the smartest thing you could be doing."

"Yeah, yeah. I got the same lecture from him _and_ from Ahsoka. I told her I hid my alcohol stash in your room just so she wouldn't bother me about it again."

He pulled a face. _Are all people this stupid?_ "That explains why she barged in like that." Edward narrowed his eyes. "But let's not digress too much; what did you tell Al?"

"I just asked him to tell you not to do anything that would get you all killed; Amestris needs you two."

 _Oh, boy. I can see just where this is going._ "Let me guess: he got inquisitive, and you told him I got recalled, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Sabine admitted. "Judging by how worn out you are, I'd say that loose lips really do sink starships."

"Shut the fuck up."

She shrugged. "Whatever; he just ran to your room after that. There was something strange going on with him, though."

 _My brother is being corrupted by a Sith holocron as we speak;_ of course _there's going to be something off about him._ "He just got told we're almost certainly going to war with Drachma; of course that's not going to sit well with him," Edward said instead.

"It's not going to sit well with _any_ one."

"Whether it does or does not doesn't matter right now." He turned back to Sabine. "When do we arrive?"

She checked something on the dashboard. "About another three hours," she told him. She squinted, annoyance lining her face. _"Ahsoka…"_

"What did she do this time?" Edward asked.

"More like what she _didn't_ do," Sabine fumed. She looked directly at him. "You know how your homeworld, Hagane, is at the outer edge of the Unknown Regions?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I thought the forest planet with that creature was in the same area. It's not. It's actually in Wild Space, which she didn't bother to disclose to me."

Edward's brow furrowed. "What's Wild Space?"

"It's an area in the outer galaxy that's pretty much uncharted," Sabine explained. "Who knows what we'll find."

"Sounds interesting," Edward commented, leaning back into the seat. "If Amestris develops starship technology anytime soon, I want to use it to explore the stars." _And to expand upon the mission Mustang gave myself and Al._

Sabine folded her arms. "Need I remind you that your planet is 'that close' to civil war?"

" _Civil war?"_ Edward swivelled the seat so that he was facing the purple-haired woman. "Is that how you people think about it? You think it's more insignificant on an interplanetary view?"

Sabine facepalmed. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what _did_ you mean?"

"Amestris and Drachma are two nations on the same planet that are close to war. In the eyes of a lot of offworlders, that would be viewed as civil war. But clearly it's different for you."

Edward rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, hand briefly catching on his ponytail. "You're right. Hagane doesn't even have the _capability_ to go meandering around the galaxy like the rest of you lot. None of the nations have developed the technology for it. Not Amestris. Not Xing. Not Drachma, not Creta— _nobody._ We tend to focus on the nations that we live in, not the planet as a whole, because not many of us can leave." He straightened, folding his arms. "War is war; you know that. I know that. Ahsoka sure as hell knows that. So it really doesn't matter what kind of war it is—just…war. Got it?"

"Got it," Sabine nodded. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

Edward waved a hand in dismissal. "You didn't." _Although it is a perspective to keep in mind when I go on the front lines._

Sabine turned back toward the console. "Things are different in space. Most people take it for granted. I just didn't think there would be people that were just content with staying on their own world, or not having starship technology. I don't know what I'd do without it."

"Live out your life on your home planet?"

Sabine snorted. "Krownest? That's nothing but cold and forests, not to mention there's family drama that I don't particularly want to talk about. Besides, there's nothing to _do_ over there. It's _boring_."

"I wouldn't go that far," Edward admonished. "You can always find inspiration in places you'd least expect."

"I'm well aware of that," Sabine butted in. "Besides, it would be impossible for me to stay put on one planet _anyway_ because my clan serves the people of Mandalore, and we are Mandalorian by blood. Even if that wasn't the case, it's not a place I want to go back to right now."

"Right," Edward muttered. "Family drama."

Sabine rolled her eyes, facing back toward the console. "You might want to get some sleep; you look exhausted."

"I'll be fine."

"Edward." Her voice was firm this time. "My ship, my rules. Now go to bed. _Please._ "

The former alchemist rose from his seat, acquiescing. "Fine." _I just hope Al doesn't pull any more stunts like that tonight._ He left the bridge, crashing once again in the stateroom.

* * *

 _Edward was sprawled out on the snow, waking up groggily. He soon noticed that fighting had taken place between Amestrian and Drachman forces. He was in a war zone._

 _So why was he on the ground?_

 _A soldier ran up to him, saluting. "Lieutenant Colonel! Thank goodness you're alive! We'll have medics sent to your—"_

 _He never got to finish; enemy fire punched holes in him until he dropped dead on the ground next to Edward. The Lieutenant Colonel's eyes widened, every fibre in his body burning to scream. But he couldn't. He couldn't even move._

 _Edward looked down, noticing now that he laid on his side. His automail leg was about ten metres away from him, appearing to have been blown off in some sort of explosion. Blood covered the entire left side of his military uniform…his own blood, from some sort of wound._

 _Explosion…_

 _Edward understood his position now, even as he felt his strength start to fade from blood loss. He had been hit by some sort of enemy missile and was lucky to have survived this long from the blast._

 _No. Not surviving. DYING. He was dying._

 _A raven flew down next to him, one he knew he had seen before. His breath caught in his throat; he couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't even survive one goddamn missile. As everything faded into nothingness, he could swear that the raven had spoken, even as the words reverberated in his mind:_

" _Three months, Edward Elric."_


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Alphonse was just about to walk out of the room when he heard a loud thud followed by cursing. He turned, seeing Edward sprawled on the floor, long hair in a mess as the older sibling started to get up. Alphonse raised an eyebrow, both parts amused and concerned about his brother's current situation.

Evidently Edward had noticed this, for an even more annoyed expression crossed his face. "Just shut up."

Alphonse shook his head, smirking as he walked out the door. The smirk faded, soon replaced by a masque of neutrality. He didn't want anyone to notice him internally recalling the shouting match he and Ahsoka had earlier.

" _Are you out of your goddamn mind?" Ahsoka had screeched, right after slapping him across the face. "Do you not realise what that thing is?"_

 _Alphonse had stared at her, bewildered. "Just this weird-ass database that likes to screw with me."_

 _The Togruta groaned, face-palming. "Dumbass. It's not screwing with you; it's corrupting you!"_

 _He sighed. "I already got that bit from Edward."_

" _And you're still going to get it from me," Ahsoka retorted. "First things first: you're right about that pyramid being a type of database. The technical name for it is a holocron—a Sith holocron, to be exact. The thing that's corrupting you is its gatekeeper. Every holocron has one, be it Jedi or Sith. Most of the time, they're AI personalities programmed in by whoever made it. Some of the Sith got creative and put their own consciences in—their own souls."_

 _Alphonse took the Sith holocron out of his pocket, frowning. "Let me guess: I happened to wind up with the latter archetype."_

" _Yep." The Togruta's tone was icy._

" _So, if I'm reading this correctly, this Sith managed to transmute its own soul into this holocron so it can fuck around with whoever happens to be accessing the database."_

" _I'll take your word for it," Ahsoka deadpanned. "I don't speak alchemy."_

 _Alphonse had thrown his hands up in frustration. "Goddamn it, woman, it's the way I think!"_

" _Then learn to think differently!" the Togruta snarled back._

Alphonse sighed, breaking out of reverie as he walked onto the bridge. Mei and Xiao Mei were already there, as were Ahsoka and Sabine. Edward joined him a moment later, long blond hair still showing signs of a bedhead look.

"Coming out of hyperspace," Sabine announced, pulling some sort of lever. The stars contracted, and they were back in normal space, except they were facing a planet that was different from their own.

"Whoa," Mei breathed.

Edward rubbed his eyes, likely still trying to get sleep dust out of them. He stepped forward, squinting. He blinked, eyebrow raised. "Hey, Sabine? Can you move the ship so that we're facing the east side of the planet?"

The Mandalorian looked at him, surprised. "Sure…" She steered the ship in the direction that Edward had requested, allowing everyone to get a good look at that side of the—

 _Oh._

Alphonse's eyes widened as he saw the entire façade of the eastern hemisphere in the shape of a massive transmutation circle—a human transmutation circle, encased by a much larger transmutation circle. He recognised the picture from the Sith holocron's database.

"What is that?" Ahsoka asked, confused.

"It's a transmutation circle," Edward explained. "Alchemists use them on a frequent basis. Although…we don't tend to use anything quite like _that._ "

"I've never seen one that massive before," Mei commented.

Edward stiffened. "I don't like the looks of it."

"Is it a weapon?" Sabine asked.

"No," Alphonse told her. "It's a death trap."

Sabine turned around, shooting the alchemist a fulminating look. "Okay, just because a circle is visible from orbit does _not_ mean it's a death trap."

"Then what do you call the Death Star?" Ahsoka quipped.

Sabine reddened, an annoyed look on her face. "I see your point."

The Elric brothers exchanged glances, confused. _What's a Death Star?_ They shrugged, both evidently figuring there was no point in asking about it at the moment.

The purple-haired woman turned back to the controls. "Hmmm… If that's the case, we might have to take drastic measures."

Ahsoka stretched her back, probably to get rid of stiffness. "Hopefully it won't come to that. Let's try and retrace our steps; maybe there was something we'd missed."

"Fine by me," Sabine motioned. She steered the ship towards the surface—towards the transmutation circle, Alphonse soon realised. They landed in a clearing a moment later, the nearby forest several klicks ahead of them.

"So that's it?" Edward asked, incredulous.

"Basically," Sabine confirmed. "The sooner we destroy it, the better."

Mei strapped on her katanas. "Got any ideas?"

Sabine got up from the pilot's seat, grinning. "I've got explosives."

* * *

"Something on your mind?"

Alphonse turned, seeing Edward behind him. It had been a few hours since they had first exited the ship, and already the experience was proving to be surreal. But, yes, there was something. "How did you know?"

"After everything we've been through, it would be surprising not to recognise a transmutation circle on sight," Edward told him. He frowned. "Although…I didn't expect it to be that easy to find—or for it to be that big."

Alphonse glanced at him. "Do you think it could be a repeat of what happened on the Promised Day?"

"I sincerely hope not," Edward admitted, shuddering a bit. "We barely got out of there alive the first time around."

Alphonse suddenly found himself grasping his arm, that weird awareness of _actually having a body_ choosing to express itself in that moment. "As if I need the reminder."

Edward sighed. "I don't know what happened here," he said slowly. "But this is a glaring sign of trouble. Any normal alchemists would tend to steer clear of this place."

"Any _sane_ alchemists," Alphonse corrected. "Which Mei and I apparently are not."

Edward smiled mirthlessly. "I'm sure you'll be able to find out more from that thing in the holocron."

Alphonse's eyes widened. _Mei._ He looked away sheepishly. "Yeah, about that…"

Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Please don't tell Mei about it."

Edward folded his arms. "Why?"

"You know why," Alphonse retorted.

"You're protecting her," Edward realised. He placed an arm on Alphonse's shoulder. "You do realise she's going to find out about this eventually."

The alchemist sighed. "I do. But, for her sake, I cannot allow her to use the holocron. At all."

Edward nodded. "I understand. Just don't do anything too stupid."

Alphonse smirked, the darker tendencies temporarily getting the better of him. "If I do, you'll know about it."

"No shit." His brother had stepped back, evidently noticing the dark flare in the alchemist. Alphonse sighed, releasing the flare. Edward visibly relaxed. "You need to get that under control."

"I know." He glanced at Edward. "Has Ahsoka said anything about what we're doing as of yet?"

"Nope," his brother informed him. "We're on our own for the moment."

Alphonse nodded. "Maybe that's just as well."

Their words soon were contradicted when Sabine came walking up to them some time later. "Mei and I are going to scan whatever we can get out of the circle," she informed them. "Even with speeder bikes, it's going to take a while."

"What do you want us to do?" Edward asked.

Sabine handed him various poles. "Set up a perimeter around the ship. These sensory arrays should keep any hungry beasts out of the way."

"Wouldn't fire work better?" Alphonse queried.

Sabine shook her head. "We don't know if the fauna here is immune to it. Hell, we don't even know what's here, apart from that ugly creature from a few days ago. We'll have a better chance with an invisible fence."

"Great." Edward handed them off to Alphonse, grimacing slightly.

Alphonse frowned. "You good?"

Edward nodded. "Yeah. My leg's just bothering me a bit, that's all."

 _Crap._ "Is it the automail?"

"Yep."

Sabine looked at them in confusion. "Automail?"

Alphonse shook his head. _Damn it, Ed, why do you have some of the worst timing possible?_

"It's a special type of prosthetic limb," Edward explained. "A lot of people have them on Hagane due to one circumstance or another. It has to be maintained, so there are many mechanics throughout Amestris alone." His face fell. "Including my wife."

"Did you at least bring something to fix your leg?" Alphonse asked.

"I brought _some_ stuff," Edward told him. "But she's going to kill me if she finds out something happened to it, and on another _planet_ no less."

"Just get it fixed as soon as you can," Sabine told him briskly. "Else your wife might not be the one who kills you." Alphonse heard animalistic growling in the distance. He and Edward exchanged worried looks before following Sabine back towards the ship.

* * *

"This circle is very detailed," Edward commented. "Whoever did this must have wanted to transmute something big."

Alphonse checked his brother's leg again. He had given it a tune-up—with Edward's instructions—so it should last for a while. At least, in theory.

"How do you know they weren't just trying to show off?" Ahsoka quipped from the pilot's seat.

"What idiot would do that?" Edward retorted. "It's bad enough they transgressed, but they didn't have to put it up there for the whole galaxy to see!"

Alphonse rolled his eyes. _I'm not getting involved in this discussion._ "I'm going to connect the nerves."

"Go for it," Edward responded. Alphonse attached the spanner to the appropriate bolt, making ready to do the deed.

 _Make it a tight fit,_ a voice inside him said. _There's no need for Winry to know about the repair. It'll be fine._

"Here goes." Alphonse tightened the bolt. Hard.

Edward yelped in pain as the nerves connected. An insane grin marked the younger brother's expression, a strange part of him actually _enjoying_ the sight of his brother suffering.

 _Get a grip, Alphonse,_ he told himself sternly. _That's just the holocron fucking around with you. This isn't you._

 _Except…it is._

"Are you crazy?!" Edward hissed. He took one look at the grin plastered on Alphonse's face, colour draining from his own. "Al, that is really creeping me out."

The grin faded. Alphonse stood up, wiping sweat off his forehead. "How does it feel?"

"Like I saw a stranger in my brother's body."

"I meant your leg," Alphonse muttered, although the previous statement alarmed him greatly.

"Oh." Edward wiggled the metal toes. "It feels…great," he said, surprise etched into his voice. "Thanks."

"Anyone know where Sabine ran off to?" Ahsoka asked, breaking into the conversation. "I'll need her help with upgrading the shields later."

"She's having a few shots in the back," Edward told her.

Ahsoka's displeasure rippled in his emotional sensory field. "Shots of _what?_ "

"Liqueur."

The Togruta growled. "Oh, for crying out loud! That's the third time in the past thirty-six hours alone."

A loud thud caused both siblings to fall over. Alphonse stood up, noticing the ship was back on the ground.

"Sorry guys," Ahsoka said. She got up, grimacing. "That wasn't one of my better landings." She left the bridge, the door sliding shut behind her as she fumed about giving a certain Mandalorian a piece of her mind regarding sobriety and how they were on a mission.

"How are you holding up?" Ed asked as he got to his feet.

Alphonse blinked, gazing at his reflection in the windshield. The question was one that he had no clear response to at the moment. In being so caught up with new fears he saw himself in his armour form and was thrown into old ones.

 _Al, I'm not giving up._

 _Memories are nothing more than just information. An alchemist as good as you would have no trouble concocting a person's memories._

 _My memories and my soul were something you created, weren't they?_

 _The person known as Alphonse Elric never even existed._

 _Al, please, trust me—_

 _Trust you? How can I trust anything? I'm hollow!_

 _Al—_

 _Stay back! Keep away from me! KEEP AWAY!_

 _Al—_

"Al."

Alphonse jumped slightly, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He saw Edward next to him, concern in his eyes. The alchemist looked away, not bearing to meet them. Echoes of their hell reached through the cracks in his mind. "Who am I, Ed?" he whispered. " _What_ am I?"

Edward sighed. He moved in front of Alphonse, placing both hands on the younger's shoulders. "You're my brother," he whispered back, voice low. "Regardless of what you become, you will always be that."

Alphonse snorted mirthlessly. "Will I be?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emotion clouded Edward's voice. _Fear?_

"You said so yourself," Alphonse muttered bitterly. "It's as though I was a stranger. You didn't even recognize me."

He'd expected Edward to deny it, to just make up excuses or to be hot-headed about it. What he didn't expect was for his brother to embrace him in a protective hug, tears falling on his shoulder. Surprise overtook him, the dark within him fleeing momentarily.

"I don't want to lose you, Al," Edward muttered. "Not again."

 _You won't go dark, so long as we're alive together._ _Alive. Together…_ In this particular moment, Alphonse felt the gravity of that promise flood him with grim certainty as to what Edward had done. "You tied your life to that promise," he realised in horror, shoving himself away. "It's Equivalent Exchange…but you, the war—"

"Right now, _you_ are my main priority," Edward said sternly, emotion forming cracks in his voice. "The war can wait. We need you, Alphonse. _I_ need you."

"I can't let you die!" Alphonse's fears rang verbally on the bridge.

"And I can't let you fall," Edward said sadly. "But this isn't about us. We're grown men. Even when we were kids, that fear tormented us to the point where we constantly sacrificed ourselves in order to save each other. We need to be better than that. Yes, we don't want either of those things to happen. But we're getting old, Al. We might be young physically, but mentally? The universe doesn't give two shits about whether we live or die. It's going to happen eventually. It's up to us how meaningful we make our time in this galaxy."

 _He's right, and you know it._ Alphonse closed his eyes, frustrated. _If I continue bitching about this, it's not actually going to do anything. I'll just be several steps closer to losing myself. But how can I hope to control what has been growing for the past seven years? Ed and I are already in our thirties; we're ageing by the day. Everyone is. We devoted our whole lives to studying alchemy, but we both made mistakes that cost us. First the taboo, now the holocron. This time, there really is nothing that can be done. No Philosopher's Stone can undo the effects of the dark side._

Alphonse opened his eyes, finding Edward's own frustration in front of him. He relaxed, as did the older sibling. "Just try not to get killed," he told Edward seriously.

Edward offered a sad smile. "I'll try."

Alphonse nodded, and the two left the bridge. Edward exited the ship, but Alphonse went back to his room, unlocking the Sith holocron. Images of the modified transmutation circle shone within the red light. Alphonse then pulled up the data on the circle the ship had just scanned, finding them practically identical. He studied them closely. "I don't understand," he mused. "That's definitely a human transmutation circle in the centre, but the circle around it doesn't make sense. It's nothing like the nationwide transmutation circle, but I'm sure there has to be some kind of explanation for this."

 _What, like there always needs to be something behind everything?_ A masculine voice had spoken, reminding Alphonse somehow of Greed when he was wearing Ling Yao. It had always been with the holocron, but Alphonse now knew him as the Gatekeeper, thanks to the information he had learned the previous night.

"No," Alphonse told him. "I was thinking in terms of the theory that had to be put into designing such a massive transmutation circle."

The Gatekeeper snorted. _Tell me what you figured out, alchemist._

Alphonse pointed to the human transmutation circle. "This inner circle is one used for human transmutation. I know damn well how that one works. As for the outer circle…I postulated this to Ed last night, but it appears to be a modification to account for other sentient races, not just human." He ran his fingers along the projected image. "The lines connecting the outer circle to that of the human transmutation circle, they appear to be lay-lines of sorts, probably to facilitate the activation of the transmutation in addition to providing access to the Gate."

 _Good guess,_ the Gatekeeper said approvingly.

Alphonse frowned. "But that's not the right answer, is it?"

 _That depends,_ the voice said vaguely. _Your explanation was correct, in theory; however, that particular transmutation circle only applies to carbon-based life forms. It doesn't apply to races that are silicon-based or otherwise._

"But silicon _is_ an ingredient used in human transmutation," Alphonse pointed out. "Suppose the ratios were switched, would that work?"

 _Unless you want to blow yourself up, then no. Modify the ratios of the ingredients, on that large a scale, on top of the explosives that the Mandalorian brought with her, and you'd be creating a massive bomb._

Alphonse shrugged. "I don't see how."

The lay-lines in the scan data lit up. _Do you know what happens when alkali metals react with water, Alphonse Elric?_

"Of course I do," he retorted. Then it hit him. "Wait a minute…"

He zoomed in on the image. Sure enough, there was a stream linking the outer edge of the circle together. Next to it was—

"You've got to be kidding me," Alphonse breathed. "A whole area full of alkali metals?!"

 _Bingo._

"Why?" Alphonse muttered, registering sound behind him. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Neither does you using that holocron to fact check the data we just collected."

Alphonse hastily locked the holocron, startled. He turned, noticing Ahsoka behind him. She did _not_ look happy.

"I had to figure some things out, that's all," he retorted.

"Uh-huh." The Togruta did not look convinced. "Hand it over, Alphonse."

Colour drained from his face. "Not a chance."

"And why not?" Ahsoka countered. "You knew it was corrupting you, yet you used it anyway?"

Alphonse glared at her. "I've put up with this thing for years, Ahsoka. I've gotten used to it."

" _Have_ you?" the Togruta asked sharply. "Use your brain, Alphonse."

"I am." He folded his arms. "Why did you barge in here? Weren't you going to have it out with Sabine?"

Ahsoka pulled a face. "I was. I sensed something on the way over and I thought we'd picked up a dark stowaway. But I was wrong. The only dark sider we have to worry about at the moment is _you._ "

"I'm not gone yet," Alphonse protested. "I still need to find out more about what is going on here."

"Even at the cost of your own soul?!"

 _1910\. I stand in the basement of our home in Resembool, looking uncertainly at my older brother. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"_

 _Edward, eleven years old, shrugs. "Well, it's too late to turn back now."_

 _We proceed with the forbidden transmutation. At first it seems as though it just might work, but the light went from blue to red as the transmutation starts to rebound._

 _"Ed?" I ask, deathly afraid. "Something doesn't feel right." Something starts to wrap itself around me. I look down, only to wish that I hadn't. Strange tentacles coil themselves around me, dragging me away from my brother. I scream, trying to fight back, but failing miserably. "ED!"_

 _Edward looks up, terror echoing on his own face. "Al!" He starts to run towards me, but those same tentacles grab his leg and force him down to the ground. "AL!"_

 _We reach out for each other, but we cannot reach the other. My screams are met with futility. Everything fades to white, and a lot happens in what feels like an eternity. The Gate. Truth. Information…_

" _Pain…coldness. What is this?" I wonder to myself as I am dragged through the Gate, screaming as information brutally forces itself into my head. "I'm being disassembled…Oh, no…Oh, no…NO!"_

 _A familiar face flashes across my vision. Uncertainty returns, mixed with hope amidst all the pain. "Mom?"_

 _Darkness becomes my only response. So much darkness…and so much pain. I look up. The Gate is gone, but it is as though I am me…but at the same time, I'm not. I glance at Edward, seeing a terrified expression on his face as it goes in and out of focus and everything feels like dark nothingness. What's going on-_

" _Al!"_

 _Edward's voice drags me to wakefulness. I look down at my body, confused. "What?" I whisper, an unnaturally metallic tone ingrained into my voice. I should be a lot smaller, but what I am seeing tells me otherwise. "Is this me?" I think to myself. What's all this armour?_

 _I look back up at Edward, horror chilling me to the core. My brother was lying in a pool of his own blood, two limbs missing. I run to him, mechanical step after terrified mechanical step, soon cradling him in my apparently huge arms. "Brother!" I say in panic, unable to feel warmth from him. "What did you do?"_

 _Edward looks up at me, eyes starting to glaze over. "I'm sorry, Al," he says weakly. "All I was able to get back…was your soul…"_

 _Blood…so much blood…_

Alphonse stepped back, the horrific memory overtaking him in split-second flashbacks. He looked down at his hands, shaking heavily. They were human, not armour. He was Alphonse Elric, and he was human. _Human!_

"You bitch!" he spat. He threw the Togruta against the wall without even touching her, the energy coming seemingly out of nowhere. Alphonse panted, the recall of the memory chilling him to the bone. He looked again at his hands, confusion and fear overtaking him.

"What?" he whispered, falling to his knees. He heard the door open, along with Ahsoka's exit. He let her go. The trauma was still there, even after all these years.

 _I am human,_ he told himself. _I am Alphonse Elric. I do exist._

 _And my soul is in danger. Again._

"Al? Al. Are you okay?" _Ed._

Alphonse sighed. "It's clear that I'm _not._ "

"Ahsoka told me what happened. She said it wasn't the dark side that had taken you over, though. It was as though you were acting on pure instinct."

Alphonse didn't look up. "We were arguing. She said something, wondering if it was worth the cost of my own soul, and the next thing I knew I was reliving that night. The night we tried transmuting Mom."

"You're still traumatised by it?"

Alphonse finally looked up, glaring at him. "I was ten years old when it happened, remember? Shit like that tends to mess people up for good!"

"Okay. Calm down." He knelt down in front of him. "Just breathe."

Alphonse sighed, relenting. He could think clearly now. "I didn't even _touch_ her," he muttered. "Was that the Force?"

"Part of it, I think," Edward mused. "Just like alchemy is."

"Yeah, and how does that work?" Alphonse countered. "Alchemy, at least on our homeworld, was manifested through tectonic energy. How does that relate to the Force?"

"Well, the Force is its own sort of energy, is it not? Maybe there's living energy involved with it that contributes to alchemy."

"If that's the case, then why can you still use it? The Force, I mean?"

"I don't know if I can," Edward admitted, helping Alphonse stand up. "My connection to the Force was probably reduced by a significant degree when I gave up my Gate of Truth. All I can do is sense my surroundings. Sometimes, I feel as though I actually _become_ the other person, although that happens on a random basis. It's weird."

 _That's not a good thing,_ the Gatekeeper said in the back of his mind.

 _You're in my head?!_

 _Even for a Force-sensitive, what your brother described is not normal. It has happened before, but not for a few thousand years. It also happened to me._

"Hey. Al?"

Alphonse blinked, noticing Edward staring curiously at him. "Is that thing talking to you?"

The alchemist's eyes widened. "How could you tell?"

"Remember what I had just told you, about that thing that happens randomly? Well, it just did. I could tell you were having a conversation in your own head. You were surprised by it."

" _Damn,_ you're good."

"Yeah, well I couldn't tell what you were saying."

"Maybe it's a good thing you _can't_ get into my head," Alphonse said sardonically, dark humour creeping in to his voice. "You might find some things a bit… _uncomfortable._ "

"I didn't need to know that."

Alphonse grinned, genuinely this time. He suppressed the dark side, feeling some warmth within as it faded. "I miss this feeling."

"As do I." Edward tilted his head. "I wonder where Sabine hid that alcohol."

Alphonse turned around, also puzzled. "Me too. Why do you ask?"

"I need a drink, and some time to think outside."

"Same," Alphonse said. Edward looked at him, evidently getting ready to protest, but the younger sibling gave him a firm stare. "The last thing any of us need is a drunk Mandalorian. We'll at least be doing Ahsoka a favour."

"I disagree," Edward retorted. "It's bad enough Sabine's showing signs of alcoholism. Given what just happened, I don't want to run the risk of you showing the same symptoms."

"I'm not addicted, Ed," Alphonse retorted. "Besides, I haven't had alcohol in a few years. Cut me some slack, here."

Edward frowned, sighing after a moment. "Maybe you're right, Al. But the minute you show signs of going haywire again I'm cutting you off."

* * *

 _Fifteen minutes later…_

"Did you find it yet?" Edward asked.

"Not yet," Alphonse responded, checking under Edward's bed. _Nothing._

Edward groaned. "I'm starting to think this is a wild goose chase."

Alphonse got up, stretching. _Where could it be?_

* * *

 _Five minutes later…_

"Still nothing," Alphonse muttered. He transmuted the floor, just on a hunch. The floor near Edward's bed parted, revealing none other than the alcohol in question. He grinned. "Found it!"

Edward ran over, a grin also appearing on his face. "Yes!" He frowned. "How did she hide it under the floorboards?"

"She must have made a secret panel just for herself," Alphonse guessed. He grabbed the alcohol. Several bottles of vodka, along with those that were probably ale or whiskey, were present. Some of it was from Amestris; the rest were likely from other worlds.

Edward looked at the drinks, whistling. "That's a lot of liqueur." He glanced at Alphonse. "Quick; transmute the floor back before anyone notices."

Alphonse smirked. "You don't need to tell me twice." He completed the requested transmutation, casting another glance at the bottles. "How about that?"

Edward shrugged. "How high is your tolerance?"

"Not high enough to down half of that at once."

"We'll figure something out." Edward glanced at the bottles, musing. "Let's take one each. That way Sabine won't notice that something's up right away."

"Fair enough." He and Edward took one bottle of vodka each, closing the panel. They hid their cargo inside their trench coats as they walked out of the room.

"Did you two get everything settled down?"

They turned. Ahsoka was a few metres behind them in the corridor. Alphonse nodded, sheepish. "Yeah. Sorry about earlier."

Ahsoka shook her head. "Don't worry about it; I had no idea." She folded her arms. "Do you think you can get it under control?"

"I hope so. I'm working on it."

"Good," Ahsoka said, satisfied. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

They went their separate ways. Edward and Alphonse exited the ship, heading for the tree line. Maybe there they could find some answers…and some peace from an inquisitive former Jedi and a Mandalorian with a large stash of alcohol.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

 _A/N:_ Hello, guys! In addition to continuing to update this story, I will be combining a few of the shortest chapters present here and will repost them soon in order for the writing to flow better. No changes to the actual content of these will be made, so what will be present is a combined version of what you have already read from these former short chapters. As I am new to the FanFiction area, I am finally getting a feel for how best to write and present this story. Constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated! Thanks for reading! On with the plot...

* * *

"That was fun," Mei commented, getting off of her speeder bike.

Sabine followed suit, grinning. "Yeah." The Mandalorian noticed the dark sky, three moons shining over them along with the stars. "We've been gone for a while."

"Do you want to head back to the ship?" Mei asked. "We can cover more ground at dawn."

"Sounds good." They mounted the bikes, heading back the way they came. They arrived an hour or so later, finding the sensory array in place. Mei headed back to her room. Sabine made sure no one was watching, then headed over to the room where the Elric brothers were staying. She opened the door, apprehensive.

The room was empty.

Sabine heaved a sigh of relief, heading for the secret panel she had installed a year ago. Originally it was for weaponry; now, it was for the bottles the ship's occupants consumed.

Once again, her mind wandered towards the last time they had visited the planet. Despite being simply a blur now, it was still a nightmare. _If I had known where Ahsoka went off to, she never would have gotten hurt, and that thing, that monster—_

Memories flooded her mind. The creature. The _Duchess._ Losing Kanan, and Ezra's disappearance. Even after a bit more than thirteen years, the grief of losing the Jedi rang true in her heart, as fresh as it was when Lothal had been liberated.

 _Hey, you do realise you're on a mission, right_? a stern voice inside her said. _One fuck-up isn't going to spell the end of the galaxy as you know it this time around, so get your shit together. This is a ridiculous way of handling what had happened back there, and during the Rebellion, and you know it._

Sabine sighed, sitting instead on the bed. "What am I doing?" she whispered. "Kanan wouldn't have wanted to see me like this. Neither would Ezra."

 _I'm not addicted. I can't be. So why am I acting like this?_

She thought of all of the vodka she had consumed over the past week alone. Granted, it was initially for leisure, but a couple of times she'd just wanted to forget what happened in the forest, in the Academy, what happened on Lothal. But she'd never drank excessively, not that she could recall.

This…this was going a bit overboard.

Sabine left the room, heading for the bridge. She needed to clear her head a bit.

She found Ahsoka and Mei already there, chatting about something. She smiled sheepishly, joining them. "Hey."

"Hello," Ahsoka responded. She tilted her head. "Is something the matter?"

Sabine sat down in the nearest seat. "You could say that." She glanced at them. "I know you were worried about me after we left Hagane. Well, you were right to be."

"Can you be a bit more specific?"

Sabine frowned. "Not all of my drinking has been for leisure."

Ahsoka's eyes narrowed. "What makes you say that?"

Sabine looked away. "Ever since what happened last week…I've been drinking more and more to get that nightmare out of my mind. It's not just that, now…reliving Kanan's death, and Ezra's disappearance, and what happened to my family when the _Duchess_ —" She faltered, glancing back up at her. "I don't know anymore."

Mei walked over, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Just how bad is it?"

"Not very, at the moment," Sabine told her. "But I know it's going to get worse."

"Not if we can help it," Ahsoka said firmly. "Can you show us where you keep the drinks?"

Sabine nodded. "This way."

They entered the Elric siblings' room. Sabine uncovered the panel in the floor revealing—

"Well, that's strange," she mused.

"What is?" Ahsoka asked.

"Some of the alcohol is missing," Sabine explained.

"Maybe you had some and forgot about it."

"No," Sabine said. "I couldn't have."

Mei knelt down, inspecting the floor. "There are transmutation marks here."

Ahsoka sighed. "Alphonse decided to mess with the floor while we were in hyperspace. That moron could have blown us to pieces!"

"That may be so," Mei muttered, "but these are more recent."

"What?"

Mei shook her head. "It appears the brothers decided to have their own outing."

Ahsoka groaned. "Those two stole the bottles from right under our noses!"

Sabine smiled slightly. "Maybe that's just as well. It is their room, after all." _And I should stop this problem in its tracks before it cascades into full-blown alcoholism._

Ahsoka sighed. "Come on." The three of them exited the room. Mei glanced at Sabine. "The withdrawal symptoms won't be pleasant," she warned. "But you really need to sober up."

"I know." Sabine looked at her gratefully. "Thank you, Mei."

* * *

Alphonse took another swig of vodka, grinning. "This is nice."

Edward smirked. "Two siblings in the forest, getting drunk in the midst of a transmutation circle that could go off at any moment. What could possibly go wrong?"

Alphonse detected the slur in his brother's voice, giving him a noncommittal look. "You're _already_ drunk."

Edward snorted. "So are you!"

"Jackass." He noticed the slur in his own voice, glancing at his brother. "We shouldn't have too much more. Not if we don't want to be food for the wildlife."

"We won't be."

Alphonse leaned back against his own tree. "Either way, it's an experience." He looked up at the stars. "I'd never dreamed of going to another planet, and now we're actually _on_ one. Just look, Ed." The older sibling followed his upward gaze. "All of those stars. One of those is our own."

"Yeah," Edward commented. "And in the sky, there's not one, but _three_ moons. _Three!_ Isn't that fascinating?"

"Definitely." Alphonse grinned drunkenly. "Oh, if only you could see the look on Mustang's face if he saw this! He'd go crazy!"

"Yeah, well it's not like either of us brought a camera."

"Mei might have," Alphonse suggested. "Your kids will be asking all about this when we get back, I'm sure of it. So will Winry."

"That's _if_ we get back, Al."

"Don't be ridiculous," Alphonse scoffed. "One way or another, we will make it back to Hagane. Amestris needs us. Besides, Mustang's counting on your expertise."

"In that case, the expertise will need some refining." Edward stood up, tossing his vodka aside, the bottle still about halfway full. Alphonse turned, eyes widening as Edward took off his shirt and tossed it beside the alcohol.

 _What is he doing?_ "Ed? Are you _trying_ to imitate Alex Louis Armstrong?"

"Nope." Edward grinned. "You up for sparring?"

Alphonse smirked. _Two can play at this game._ He copied Edward's previous actions, placing his shirt next to the liqueur. "Come at me, bro."

The inebriated siblings charged at each other, sparring in hand-to-hand combat. Alphonse figured the fighting must have gone on for several minutes, or even an hour, but he could not tell how much time had actually gone by. All he could focus on was fighting Edward. Sweat beaded his face, all rational thought obliterated by the alcohol setting in. The effects had long since taken over the older sibling, and both brothers were left to beat each other up without thinking about what they were doing.

It was ultimately Alphonse who overpowered Edward, pinning him against a tree until he dropped to the ground, laughing maniacally. "Okay. You win."

"I'm glad you see it my way." Alphonse helped him up, mind starting to clear. He sighed. "Looks like the alcohol's starting to wear off. You?"

"It already wore off."

Alphonse's jaw dropped. "Just how high _is_ your tolerance?!"

"Pretty high." Edward put his shirt back on. "We can save the rest for later."

Alphonse shrugged, picking up his own stuff. "Any ideas on what to do right now?"

"More stargazing?"

"Why not?" Alphonse put his shirt back on, grateful for the dry clothing against his sweaty torso. They walked around, finding a starlit area several hundred metres west of their previous location—or, what Alphonse _thought_ was west. They sat down, gazing up at the foreign sky.

 _You have to tell him,_ the Gatekeeper said within his mind.

Alphonse blinked. He knew exactly what the Sith was referring to. _I don't know a lot about it myself._

He heard the Gatekeeper sigh within. _Listen to me very carefully, alchemist…_

* * *

Edward stared at the stars, smiling wistfully. He wished Winry was here to see this. Her, and the kids. He imagined their expressions, gazing in awe at the three moons. His heart wrenched, the wistfulness growing ever stronger.

 _I miss you._

Edward wished he could photograph the sky; the sight was just so beautiful. But the moment was so much more meaningful without it. The feelings he was experiencing, on top of the sky, there was no way a picture could capture any of it. Besides, the hard reality was that they weren't here to go sightseeing.

 _But the sky…_

His mind blurred. Suddenly, it was as though he was Alphonse, looking up in the night sky, still somewhat drunk. He turned to the left, seeing his own body as well as his brother's, mirroring the same motions.

 _This is just like with Mustang, at the bar,_ Edward realised. _What the hell is this strangeness?_

He blinked. Just as suddenly as it happened, the sensation stopped, and Edward was fully himself again, sober. The light of the three moons shone down above them, gentle but strange. The stars themselves were strange. It was different, being among them, knowing that his home was in the distant space that was the Unknown Regions. What did Sabine call this area where they were now...Wild Space? That sounded about right. Edward smiled. That had a nice ring to it.

"Hey, Ed?"

Edward rolled over, noticing Alphonse still gazing at the stars, sitting up this time. "Do you want to know what the Gatekeeper told me?"

Edward's eyes widened. "Alphonse?" _What the hell is he talking about?_

The alchemist sighed. "There is a reason why very few people do what you did, Ed. The damage can be…severe."

Edward shook his head in denial. "Nope…it goes against Equivalent Exchange."

"I disagree."

"In what way?"

"You gave up your Gate of Truth in exchange for my being. But that wasn't the only toll. Even the all-powerful entity isn't above his own laws."

Dread coursed through the older brother as he started to understand what the other sibling was saying. "What—what was the toll?"

"Truth gave up some of his power in exchange for severing his connection with you. He transferred a small amount of that power into _you,_ Ed." Alphonse looked at him with a fierce intensity. "It's an anomaly that no one has bothered to come up with a name for yet. People in this situation still retain their Force-sensitivity, although it is amplified yet limited at the same time as these abilities cannot be manifested externally. At least, not that I know of."

 _I'm not convinced. Or maybe that's just me denying it all._ "What makes you think it isn't schizophrenia, then?" Edward asked, sceptical. "Last I checked, the symptoms were similar."

"Only the hallucinatory ones," Alphonse told him. "And that could probably be because you got drunk twice within a couple of days. The signs aren't actually there. Your memory's working fine, and you seem to be more in touch with reality than I am." He shook his head. "No; this is something completely different, something on the cognitive level that neither of us seem to understand."

Edward narrowed his eyes. _I don't know a lot about neuroscience, but this necessitates further research._ "What did you mean about the damage being severe?"

Alphonse refused to meet his eyes.

Edward gritted his teeth, shaking. _Do not pull this crap on me now, Al._ "Alphonse, _tell me._ "

Alphonse didn't look up. "The mirroring takes at least a decade or so to manifest in full. Every known case, and I do mean _every_ , has ended the same—in suicide."

Edward felt very cold all of a sudden. He couldn't move; shock took over so quickly that he just stared off into the distance, panic forcing its way into his mind. Truth's toll, the hallucinations…Everything was making sense now.

Except—

"How did that thing know that?" Edward asked, voice raw.

"It happened to him," Alphonse said quietly. "He was a Sith Alchemist, Ed. He committed taboo and was in the same mindset as you were in giving up his own Gate of Truth. In the end, he had a fellow alchemist preserve his soul in the holocron immediately after stabbing himself. He just couldn't take it anymore."

Edward closed his eyes. _Three months, Edward Elric._ Was that what the raven had meant?

 _Don't jump to conclusions,_ he told himself sternly. _The raven probably meant something entirely different. After all, a lot can happen in three months._

"I won't allow myself to be caught in the same loop," Edward said firmly, shock subsiding. "We went out of our way to forge our own path when we searched for a way to get our bodies back, Al. The same holds true here."

"You don't know that," Alphonse warned.

"Yes, I do!" Edward got up, staring into the forest. "We have a mission, Al. I will not rest until that transmutation circle is destroyed."

"Yeah, but at what cost?"

Edward shrugged. "If that thing is gone, people like you and Mei and Ahsoka can't get hurt. Is that not Equivalent Exchange?"

Alphonse considered the logic. "That's one way of looking at it. But you could still die."

"I was aware of that when I took this mission." Edward sighed. "It seems as though things just get more and more interesting by the day."

Alphonse looked at him knowingly. "It's still happening, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Edward rolled onto his back. "It only lasts for a few seconds at a time, but it feels as though I am more than just myself. Just a little while ago, I was you and me at the same time. At the bar, I was myself and Mustang, but the effects were significantly less back then."

"Do you want to ask Ahsoka about it?"

"No," Edward admitted. "But it's better than asking that holocron."

"You'll be fine," Alphonse muttered. "I'm the only one it's interested in talking to."

"That's what worries me."

"Just focus on _yourself,_ asshat," Alphonse retorted. "Why _don't_ you want to ask Ahsoka about it?"

Edward frowned. "She might know quite a bit about the Force, but alchemy is an entirely different matter. It's as though she's afraid of it, somehow."

"Maybe it's not something the Jedi had used."

"Jedi?" Edward asked, confused.

"Some group of Force-wielders, apparently. They were wiped out right after the Clone Wars. Ahsoka used to be one," Alphonse told him. "My guess is that, given its nature, they probably viewed alchemy as part of the dark arts and therefore considered the science itself to be taboo."

"That… _would_ make sense," Edward mused, considering the notion. He thought of how negatively Ahsoka had reacted when they addressed the concept of alchemy in Liore, and also thought of their taboo and the Philosopher's Stone. Perhaps the Jedi had known of the more dangerous aspects of alchemy and hadn't wanted to risk anyone within the sect even trying to mess with it. "Even so, they overgeneralised it by focusing solely on the extreme dangers."

"I'll take your word for it."

Edward stood. _Maybe I can control this. Can I?_ He stared intensely at Alphonse, blinking after a moment.

 _Nothing._

"Damn," Edward muttered under his breath. He closed his eyes, controlling his breathing. He needed to know if this was something he could do.

 _Don't try to use the Force,_ he told himself. _Truth is all-powerful, right? What would he do?_

 _Take your limbs and beat the shit out of you with them. He still has your leg, you know._

 _He can keep it. I'm used to the automail. Now, shut up. I'm trying to focus._ Edward let himself go, feeling the grass underneath his shoes. _All is the universe. One is me. Remember. Let go._ He could sense that he wasn't alone, Alphonse and the surrounding wildlife deep in his subconscious awareness. He could sense the life within them. He was a part of them. He _was_ them, but at the same time he wasn't. But it was just like the island—they were just part of the cycle of existence, throughout the galaxy, throughout the universe. It was beautiful, it was symbiosis, it was—

"—up! Wake up, damn it!"

 _Alphonse. But, why? I'm still here, aren't I?_ He opened his eyes, noticing the sky overhead. Alphonse stood over him, concerned. Edward frowned, confused. _Wasn't I just standing?_ He rolled onto his side, eyes widening in terror as he saw several large creatures approaching…and they did _not_ look friendly.

"RUN!"

Edward got up, complying with his brother's request. He had only gone about fifty metres or so when he realised that Alphonse wasn't behind him.

"Oh, no." He turned around, shock kicking in when he saw the scene that was unfolding in the direction from which he had come. The beasts had stopped in an arc in front of his brother, evidently held back by something. Alphonse stood alone, one hand extended in front of him. Edward sensed his brother at ease, remaining calm in front of the beasts. The alchemist moved his hand in a downward slashing motion, and the beasts attacked each other, snarls and howls of pain sounding in the night. Blood and fur flew everywhere. Edward stepped backwards, no longer able to bear the sight of it. "What the hell are you doing, you idiot?" he screamed at his brother. "Get the fuck out of there!"

Alphonse turned around, nodding. His face was eerily calm, a fact that troubled Edward more as his sibling walked towards him. Alphonse put a hand on his shoulder. "That was interesting."

Edward shoved himself out of his brother's grasp, punching him square in the jaw. Alphonse stumbled, caught off-guard. _'"Interesting'?"_ he yelled, enraged. " _You_ instigated this bloodshed!"

Alphonse got up, folding his arms. "I didn't fall, if that's what you were thinking. I was trying to save our lives. And it worked."

Edward's lip curled. "You were _controlling_ them!"

Alphonse looked at him, genuinely confused. "I…what?"

"You heard me!" Edward looked at him, pain in his soul. _This isn't you. And yet you are here. Right in front of me. A monster, unable to control himself._ But Alphonse was right about one thing—he _hadn't_ fallen, despite the waters of darkness that surrounded his presence. _Was that the dark side?_ If it was, that energy was like freezing river rapids. Alphonse had somehow managed to stay afloat, despite the waves that had crashed over him. How long would it be before he reached and went over the waterfall? "You had them all entranced somehow. And you motioned for them to kill each other."

The alchemist's eyes widened in horror as his calm façade shattered. "No." Alphonse fell to his knees. "That's not—" he looked back at the scenery, all but two of the beasts dead on the ground. The survivors retreated into the forest, wounded.

 _"SHIT!"_

Edward knelt next to his brother, eyes closing. _Alphonse, why?_ He heard footsteps, followed by the sound of glass smashing. Edward turned, seeing his brother holding a jagged shard that used to be part of a vodka bottle. The mirror kicked in, and Edward saw both of them, Alphonse's intentions clear in the moonlight based on the broken look on his face.

Edward ran blindly toward him, tackling the alchemist before he could do any harm. "Don't you dare!"

"Let me go!" Alphonse screamed, writhing like a wounded animal. "I can't; Just leave me here to rot!"

"You are _not_ doing this right now!" Edward hissed, keeping the alchemist pinned to the ground. The mirror intensified from their emotional pain. Electricity buzzed in his brain. Involuntary tears rolled down his face as the agony became both physical and emotional. "Alphonse, listen to me," he whispered, brokenness rendering his voice but a whimper. "Nobody says this is easy. We've faced shit worse than this; and we _will_ get through it. But it won't do any good if you give up now!"

"Leave. Me."

"You're not gone yet!" Edward tried to telekinetically wrench the glass out of his sibling's hand, but nothing happened. No flow of energy, nothing. The older brother gritted his teeth. "Think for yourself, damn it! Don't let a _Sith_ of all things corrupt you!"

Alphonse let go of the glass, sighing. "You're wrong. We both are. It's not the holocron that's corrupting me; _I'm_ corrupting _myself!_ " Edward felt himself suddenly stand against his will, his brother telekinetically freezing him in place. His face still bore that shattered expression. "I hate what it's doing to me! I _hate_ it! I've tried, Ed. _Seven. Bloody. Years._ I've tried. It's like a cancer!"

The mirror cracked, shards of Alphonse's light struggling to escape the cold, dark rapids that attempted to seep through. Edward extended a mental hand, lifting the shards, cradling them protectively. The cracks sealed, the rapids evaporating into steam. Physically, Alphonse collapsed, and the invisible grip on the older sibling was released. The next thing Edward knew, he was back in his room, Alphonse keeping watch over him. The younger Elric was wrapped in a thick blanket—a shock blanket, Edward realised, recognising the technology from various hospitals in Central. _Why, though?_ Another sensation soon came to him, one that he didn't like at all. _Why am I burning up so much?_

"You're lucky I found you two," a quiet voice said. Edward looked up, noticing Mei sitting next to Alphonse. Her expression was both concerned and severe. "Just how much did you drink?"

"Not enough," Alphonse muttered. He glanced at Edward. "You're finally up."

Edward didn't have the strength to talk, managing a small smile instead. The mirror was gone. The worst of the incident slowly came back to him, the sight of his brother breaking reducing him to silent tears.

"Not enough?" Mei retorted. "Damn it, Al, both of you nearly died out there!"

Alphonse looked at her, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

 _He doesn't remember,_ Edward realised. _Maybe that's for the best._ He turned, crying out in pain as his automail became uncooperative. Alphonse gently pushed him back onto the bed, equally concerned. "Don't try to move. Please."

"Au—" Edward's voice was raw. It took all of his strength to even get that far. "Au…to…mail…"

"Fuck." Alphonse turned. "Mei, can you hand me a spanner?"

Moments later, Edward's metal leg was removed, the pain decreasing hundredfold. His head cleared, but he felt weaker than ever. "How…?" _Why is my voice so raw?_

"Solo expedition," Mei explained. "I borrowed a speeder since I thought you guys were too drunk to walk. Ahsoka and Sabine don't know a thing about this, by the way; I left while they were sleeping. They're still out cold."

"How long?" His voice was stronger, but his strength was practically non-existent.

"Since I found you? Ten hours, give or take. You two were probably out for a lot longer than that; my guess is that you had passed out earlier this evening."

 _Huh?_ "Is it the same night?" Alphonse asked, equally confused.

"Apparently. I was looking through some of the data we had on this place, and it turns out that the nights here last for about thirty-six hours, give or take. It'll take a while to adjust, that's for sure."

"Fun." Alphonse sighed.

Mei glared at him. "While we're on the subject of 'fun', I want you two to explain yourselves. _Now._ "

Edward gulped. Mei's expression was even more dangerous than Alphonse's was in the clearing. _I have to start talking._ "Drunk." _Why is it so difficult for me to talk?_

Mei huffed. "The vodka made _that_ pretty obvious. Then what?"

"We were sparring, then we stargazed, and then we talked about life for a bit." Alphonse had somehow deliberately left out the part about the mirrors. "Then we stargazed again. There was some unfriendly wildlife that had stopped by, though…I don't remember anything after that, except a cold feeling and waking up here with Ed half-dead."

"Only half? After what happened a few hours ago your brother is _lucky_ to be alive," Mei said grimly, turning to Edward as Alphonse gave her a knowing look. "You had a seizure."

 _What?_ "Don't…remember," Edward managed.

"That's a good thing," Alphonse said, relieved. "You'll recover. Although…" He frowned. "It was a minor one, in theory. It shouldn't have done that."

"Mirror," Edward breathed. He knew in the back of his mind that he had tried to control it, somehow, but the efforts must have failed.

Mei, however, misunderstood what he was saying, shaking her head. "Trust me, Ed, you do _not_ want to look in a mirror right now."

Edward sighed, annoyed. Mei placed a hand on his shoulder. "You'll recover. You went into shock, so the real damage was done there. Just give it a few days. We'll check on you."

Edward gave her a grateful look. Alphonse sighed. "Can you us alone for a minute?"

Mei stood. "Take whatever time you need." She exited, leaving the brothers in privacy.

Alphonse grasped Edward's hand, gold eyes troubled. "I'm going to tell you something, okay? Just don't try to talk right now."

Edward blinked. Alphonse frowned. "I didn't tell her about the mirrors because I was afraid, Ed. It's all happening too fast; the dark side, finding out you're an anomaly, even being on another frigging planet." He sighed. "Truthfully, I don't know if I can control it. The Force…no, the dark side—it calls to me. Even when the Gatekeeper has his trap shut, it calls to me. At first, I really was being influenced by the holocron. I was only able to open it because of the scars that were left on my soul after not being human for five years. No matter how kind I was, my humanity was gone. I couldn't feel a damn thing, Ed. That might have been why it was so easy for me to access the dark side, regardless of my current state." He tightened his grip. "You don't understand; It's worse than being tied to that armour! This whole thing is just one gigantic clusterfuck."

Edward smiled weakly. _Of course it is. Everything always turns out that way for us._

Alphonse let go. "Anyway, get some sleep. Your body needs to recover."

Edward gave him a fulminating look. _Don't you dare leave._

The alchemist looked at him reassuringly. "Don't worry; I'm not leaving for a while yet."

Edward blinked, relieved, despite the burning feeling across his body.

"Thanks, by the way, for saving my ass out there."

Edward raised an eyebrow. _I thought you didn't remember?_

"I don't remember what happened after seeing the pack, but I could tell that the dark side was stronger within me. You must have pulled me back before I did something really stupid," Alphonse murmured. "I owe you one."

Edward allowed that weak smile to return, gently grasping his brother's hand in response before darkness wiped away consciousness.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

"How is he?"

Alphonse glanced at her, tiredness all over his face. "Out cold."

Mei looked at him gratefully. "I'll feel better if he sleeps like that for the rest of the night." She folded her arms. "I'd also feel better if the same applied to you, Al."

Alphonse leaned backwards into the chair. "I'll be okay."

 _Sorry, Al, but that's not going to fly this time._ Mei put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll keep an eye on him. Get some rest." She looked at him in a way that mentally conveyed her overall message. _That means "now", Alphonse._

Alphonse groaned, evidently understanding that look. "Fine." He got up, walking over to his own bed. From what Mei could tell, he was finally asleep just a few moments later. She watched as Xiao Mei crawled onto Edward's chest, snuggling close to the older Elric's heart. Edward was pallid, dark circles under his eyes.

 _He just got blackout drunk not even two days ago, and now_ this _happens?_ Mei frowned. _It's a miracle he's still functioning._

She kept a close eye on him. There was no telling what would happen in these next, critical hours.

"Mei?"

The princess turned, noticing Sabine at the door. The Mandalorian's eyes were wide with fear. "It's Ahsoka. She's got another nightmare. It's bad."

Mei frowned. "How bad?"

"Very."

Mei glared at her. "Can't _you_ deal with it, then? I've got my own problems right now."

"So do I!" the Mandalorian hissed.

Mei looked at her, eyes narrowing. "Spill."

"She keeps saying something about the creature we saw the last time we were here. Whatever went on between her and that thing, it _really_ terrified her."

"How bad is it?"

"Bad enough that she woke up with her lightsabres blazing."

Mei gritted her teeth. "First of all, it's not a nightmare, Sabine. She's experiencing night terrors, which are a lot worse. Secondly, I can't leave them."

"Are you crazy? That woman armed and seriously fucked-up right now!"

"They almost got themselves killed earlier!" Mei retorted, gesturing to the brothers. "Edward could still die!"

"And Ahsoka could kill everyone on this ship if she's not careful!" Sabine folded her arms, calming down a bit. "I'll watch over them."

"Thanks." Mei grabbed her kunai and ran out the room. Sure enough, Ahsoka was standing several metres in front of her, holding strange swords with blades as white as snow. _Those must be the "lightsabres" Sabine was talking about,_ Mei presumed. _But didn't she just wake up?_ She looked up. "Ahsoka?"

The Togruta faced her. The woman's eyes were wide with terror, her grip tightening on the strange hilts. "No! Go away!"

 _What?_ "Ahsoka, calm down," Mei tried to reassure her. "It's me, Mei. You're safe here."

"Liar!" The Togruta charged at Mei, lightsabres swinging. Mei moved out of the way, feeling the searing heat of the blades as they passed mere inches from her face. The princess moved acrobatically, watching as she landed a strike—on nothing.

"She really is out of it," Mei muttered, dodging another one of the woman's slashes. Ahsoka was highly agile, and the princess had to push her muscles to their limits just to avoid her. She at last found an opening, throwing her kunai to a spot on the wall to the left of Ahsoka's head. Mei drew the transmutation circle, but Ahsoka cut through it with her blades.

"Damn," she muttered. She drew a second circle, but the Togruta was out of range.

"How _can_ I be safe, given what I had done?"

The princess looked up, noticing that Ahsoka had backed off her attack, an uncertain look on her face.

Mei stood, walking cautiously toward her. "I don't know." She folded her arms. _At least she's lucid now. That makes things easier._ "You're better off asking the Elric brothers."

Ahsoka deactivated the blades, a grimace on her face. "I'm not quite sure they'd know the answer, either."

"You were having night terrors, weren't you?" Mei guessed.

"It's not something I want to talk about."

Mei nodded, knowing that all but confirmed that she _was._ "I understand."

Ahsoka sat against the wall, distraught. "I thought these nightmares, night terrors, _whatever,_ would be over by now. It's not just what happened during my first trip here, but also bad things I saw during the Rebellion, and during the Clone Wars." She gritted her teeth. "It's maddening."

Mei sat next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You survived, right? That should be all that matters."

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow as the princess continued. "We're alive, Ahsoka. You hear me? Alive."

The Togruta snorted. "Physically, yes. But some of us are just dead inside."

"Moron."

Ahsoka stood. "I'll be fine, Mei." She frowned. "You smell like booze."

The princess pulled a face. "Oh, yeah. I had to pick up a couple of drunkards earlier this evening."

"How are they holding up?"

Mei got to her feet. "They'll live," she said grimly, "although I can't be too sure about Edward."

Ahsoka's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"He had a seizure a few hours ago," Mei explained. "I think it was alcohol-induced. The neurological effects from the shock nearly killed him, but Alphonse and I were able to get it under control. It'll take some time for him to recover."

"How long are we talking?"

"About a week, depending on how stubborn he is about getting there."

Ahsoka didn't seem to be thrilled with that answer. "And Alphonse?"

Mei sighed. "Stressed. He's sober—both of them are—but he doesn't remember some of what went down under the influence." She frowned, perplexed. "He also mentioned feeling really cold, which is weird, because alcohol warms the body up—" She broke off, noticing an uneasy expression on Ahsoka's face. "Ahsoka?"

"Is Alphonse in his room?" Ahsoka asked sharply.

"He's asleep," Mei retorted sternly. "You should be, too."

"How can I sleep with this shit going on?" she shot back. "Anakin! Obi-Wan! Kanan! Yoda! The Jedi! They're dead! Ezra's missing! Everyone is gone!"

 _Oh, boy._ Mei grasped the Togruta's arms before she could even consider turning her weapons back on. "Not everyone!" she said fiercely. "There's people you know and care about that are still alive, damn it! Besides, you have me. You have Sabine. You have Xiao Mei, Ed, and Al! Get yourself together!"

The Togruta blinked, pulled out of her mental breakdown. "I'm sorry," she whispered, bowing her head. "I've been through hell and back more times than I care to count. You didn't need to see that."

"Why apologise?" Mei countered. "We all have our own circumstances here. It's okay to show weakness every now and then." She let go of the woman's arms. "Sleep. Seriously. If it makes you feel any better I'll keep an eye on you."

"What about the Elrics?"

"Sabine's taking care of them," Mei reassured her. "Let's go."

* * *

 _"Ahsoka? Ahsoka, can you hear me?"_

 _Ahsoka sat up, blinking. Anakin sat beside her, concerned. The Togruta's eyes narrowed. "Master? What's going on?"_

 _"We were overrun by Dooku's forces," Anakin explained, evidently in a hurry. "We're abandoning ship."_

 _Ahsoka's eyes widened. She grabbed her lightsabre, a grim expression on her face. The fourteen-year-old didn't want to abandon ship, but if the damage was that bad…_

 _"Can't we take them head on?" she asked._

 _Anakin looked at her as though she was insane. "Ahsoka, half of the Jedi Cruiser was literally blown off. This ship is going down any minute now. Get to the fighters; that's an order!"_

 _Ahsoka sighed, knowing that further argument was out of the question. "Yes, Master."_

 _The two Jedi ran to the hangar, dodging debris falling around them. Some of the clones were crushed, but everyone ran past for the sake of their own survival. They stopped at the hangar, expecting to see their fighters and escape, but they were greeted with a much more chilling sight._

 _Hundreds of blackened, deformed creatures with red eyes lined the hangar, several encircling them. They looked like incomplete humanoids. One leapt at Anakin, who cut it down with his lightsabre, but more came at him tenfold._

 _"Snips! Get out of here!" he yelled, screaming as the creatures tore into him and ripped him apart._

 _"ANAKIN!" She ignited her own blade, cutting down creatures right and left, but she was hopelessly outnumbered, screaming in agony as they cut her to—_

Ahsoka sat up, hyperventilating as cold sweat drenched her from montrals to toe. She panted, terror coursing through her as she saw herself once again in a stateroom. But Anakin wasn't there.

The door opened, revealing a human woman with long, black hair, a concerned look in her eyes. "Another one?"

 _Mei. That's Mei Chang._ Ahsoka started to relax slightly as she remembered where she was. _I'm in my room, on my ship. The Clone Wars have long since ended; I'm alive. I'm forty-eight years old, not fourteen. I'm alive. I'm alive._ She faced the younger woman. "Yeah. Another one."

Mei frowned. "At least you weren't using your swords this time." She walked in, the door closing shut behind her. "How many have you had since it happened?"

Ahsoka winced, trying to recall. There were just too damn many of them. "More than I can count at the moment."

"Is it the Clone Wars again?"

"That, and the creature keeps barging in. Except there were hundreds instead of one. Other than that, it's pretty vague." Ahsoka got up, figuring it would be best if she didn't get any more sleep for a while. She didn't want to deal with any more shit that her mental state would decide to attack her with at the moment.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist

 _A/N:_ Shout out to all of you who have read and/or reviewed! Thank you and keep reading! :)

 _While the former Fullmetal Alchemist and company are starting their mission in Wild Space (with some snags), major events occur concurrently within the Amestrian military..._

* * *

"You sent for me, sir?"

Führer-President Roy Mustang looked up from his desk, noticing Brigadier General Riza Hawkeye saluting him. He stood, motioning for the door to be closed. This meeting was one that was needed to be discussed in private.

Once he was certain they were alone, Mustang divulged what he could to his friend. "I'm sure you're aware of Lieutenant Colonel Elric's mission, correct?"

"Yes, sir," Hawkeye confirmed. She frowned. "I understand what you are trying to do, but I'm afraid there are more pressing matters that need to be brought to your attention." She handed him a manila envelope, addressed specifically to him, indicating that reception of the contents was of utmost urgency. "Fuery told me to get this to you as quickly as possible."

He nodded. "Thank you, General." He motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

Hawkeye saluted him, taking the proffered chair. Mustang opened the envelope, cursing vehemently once he read and re-read the contents in detail.

* * *

 **RCHQ**

 **DE BRG NR 110**

 **PRIORITY ALPHA**

 **TRANSMISSION SENT 13 SEPT 33, 1356 CST**

 **FM GENERAL O M ARMSTRONG, FORT BRIGGS**

 **TO FUHRER-PRESIDENT ROY MUSTANG, CENTRAL HQ**

 **UNCLASSIFIED**

 **DECLARATION OF WAR FROM THE NATION OF DRACHMA CONFIRMED. THIS IS NO DRILL. HOSTILES IN RANGE; ADVISE ON HOW TO PROCEED.**

 **NNNN**

* * *

General Olivier Mira Armstrong loathed him, he knew that much, so the situation had to be dire if she had to send the message via radiogram and have it delivered to him the same day. He picked up the phone, immediately on the line with Communications. "Get me General Armstrong," he barked. "Now!"

 _"Right away, sir."_ Mustang waited for a moment. Then—

 _"Führer-President Roy Mustang! Such an honour! What can I do for you, sir?"_

 _Goddamn it._ They'd patched him through to the wrong General Armstrong. "Alex," he barked, temper flaring. "I was actually needing to talk with your sister."

 _"Of course, of course! In fact, I can connect you with her myself if it's not too much trouble."_

Mustang was initially going to decline the offer, but the way things were going with Communications at the moment… "Thank you, General. I humbly accept."

 _"Excellent! I will have her on the line in a moment!"_

Mustang frowned. _One declaration of war and the whole fucking military goes nuts. And here I was thinking we'd have a bit more than eighteen years of "peace"._

 _"Alex, I do not have_ time _to talk to you right now,"_ a woman's voice snapped on the other end of the line. Roy cringed. _The Ice Queen strikes again._ He adopted a cool tone as he addressed her. "General Armstrong, this is Führer-President Roy Mustang. I apologise for the confusion; there were some fuck-ups in Communications that _will_ be dealt with _very_ soon."

 _"Understood, sir,"_ Olivier acknowledged, ice in her voice as usual. _"I take it you got my message?"_

"As of a few minutes ago, yes," Mustang said grimly. "What is the status of the enemy forces?"

 _"They are holding position about seven or eight klicks north of the wall,"_ Olivier said briskly. _"They have not yet started attacking, likely due to the snowstorm, although they do look to be gearing up for a frontal assault. We have been standing by for the past six hours."_

Mustang blinked. "How many have been spotted?"

 _"At least two to three thousand. Maybe more. Their weaponry could pose a problem; it does appear to be more high-tech than ours."_

 _Shit. So much for the Non-Aggression Pact._ "Hold your positions, and wait for them to attack," Mustang ordered, voice firm. "Drachma has been the instigator in this war; I want _them_ to know it. Get in touch with me as soon as the first shots have been fired. I will have reinforcements from North sent your way as soon as this conversation is over."

 _"Affirmative."_ She didn't seem very happy about that, especially since she was in charge of Briggs, but it was clear she knew an order when she heard one.

The transmission ended, and Mustang put down the receiver, head in his hands.

 _If there was ever a time for me to get drunk, now would be it._

"Did Lieutenant Colonel Elric inform you where he was going?" Hawkeye asked, attempting to bring his attention back to Edward's mission.

"He said something about some forest planet in this galaxy with a human transmutation circle on it," Mustang said wearily. "That was three days ago."

"When you met him in that bar," Hawkeye tsked.

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "You didn't have a problem with the rendezvous point back then, General."

"I still don't," Hawkeye informed him. "What I _do_ have a problem with is you being inebriated and on your own in the East Area, sir. With all due respect, you are the leader of this country now. There are more people who are bound to be looking to assassinate you."

"Hence why this next round of chess is a critical one," he finished, giving his old friend a knowing look. "Very well, General. I will keep your advice in mind for future excursions." He looked at her. "I am appointing you once again as my assistant and as my bodyguard. I understand your goal was to protect me until I reached the top, yet you never wavered in that purpose even after I got there. Thank you for that."

Hawkeye saluted him. "We all have your back, sir."

"I know you do." Mustang's expression became brisk once again. "Assemble the top brass and have the war room ready in one hour."

"Yes, sir."

Mustang glanced at her. "One more thing: have the team find out everything they can about where the hell Edward went. If we can get our situation transmitted to him, we might be able to get him back here before things really start to get ugly. He's one of our most crucial pieces."

Hawkeye nodded. "I will see what I can do, sir."

Mustang blinked, satisfied. "Dismissed."

Hawkeye exited, leaving the Führer-President scrambling to get ready for the meeting. A quick call to North HQ assured him that General Armstrong would have the reinforcements she needed-but was not too thrilled about at the moment-to keep Briggs even more fortified. After the call ended he walked to the nearby window and looked outside, the late afternoon sky but a cover for the stars that were to be found at night. Edward had to be near one of them.

 _Come back alive, Fullmetal,_ he thought grimly. _We need you. That's an order._

Mustang wasn't quite sure if this would be the case, but he sardonically hoped the message was sent through whatever telepathic energy resided in the cosmos and somehow, somehow, reached the errant Lieutenant Colonel. The Führer-President snorted, knowing this was highly unlikely to work. He turned away from the window, putting on a masque of authoritarian military command as he left for the war room.

And so began the longest evening Mustang had in years.

* * *

ADDITIONAL NOTES

I. Radiogram: A telegram transmitted via radio; used by maritime radio stations, Amateur Radio stations and military officials (Wikipedia).

II. CST: Here, this is an acronym for Central Standard Time, based off of Central City's location in Amestris.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Thanks to all of you who have read and/or reviewed so far! On with the story...

* * *

 _Klaxons sounded in the distance. Edward stood, seeing his squad running to the command tent. He pulled up the hood on his cloak and echoed their actions, arriving at the location only a moment or so later. The soldiers parted the way upon noticing their commanding officer, saluting, but the Lieutenant Colonel was more focused on the woman six or seven metres in front of him. Edward came to a halt directly in front of General Olivier Mira Armstrong, offering a salute of his own. The older woman's freezing stare further solidified her status as the "Ice Queen" of the Amestrian army. She did not look happy, as usual._

 _"Lieutenant Colonel Elric!" she barked. "Status report!"_

 _Edward straightened. "Enemy forces are holding position twelve klicks west of here!" he reported. "What action do you require us to take?"_

 _"None, at this time," Olivier told him. "There's a massive snowstorm coming, and neither side has the ability nor the advantage to fight in it."_

 _"Suppose they choose to ambush us in the storm?" one of the privates queried. Edward barely stifled a groan, but Olivier was already rounding on him. "Did I give you permission to interrupt your superior, Private?"_

 _The unlucky man sighed. "No, ma'am."_

 _"Then seeing as you're so concerned about the storm, I suggest you man the weather station and keep your eye on the fucking radar!" the Ice Queen snapped. "Go!"_

 _The private saluted, running as quickly as he could to his newly-assigned duties._

 _Olivier sighed, panning her icy gaze toward Edward. "As I was saying, neither side has the advantage in this storm. But the private_ does _raise an excellent point. I want at least one solder from each squad to keep watch in the trees. We need a relay system in place in the event that the radio signals are blocked. Get that started as quickly as you can. We cannot allow their forces to get near the wall!"_

 _"AYE, MA'AM!" Amestrian voices shouted the affirmative in thousands, saluting._

 _"Dismissed!"_

 _Once again, they fought against the cold as they made sure the enemy wasn't close by. Edward directed people to their assigned watch posts, and he himself fought to stay warm as he sensed the storm getting closer._

 _He was really glad he had stuck to the northern-style automail._

 _"Edward Elric."_

 _Edward turned, but there was no one there. He shrugged, once again directing people, also taking on the duty of getting his men in a formation where they were less likely to be killed by either Drachman forces or by the storm. Once that was over with, Edward walked over to the command tent, informing Olivier Mira Armstrong of the completed task._

 _"Very good, Lieutenant Colonel," said the General approvingly. "Get some rest; the last thing we need is to have one of our strongest tacticians pass out in the middle of a battle."_

 _Now that he was thinking about it, he realised just how exhausted he was. He had been running on adrenaline for who knows how long, but it was evidently long enough to start showing. He saluted her. "As you wish, General." Edward exited the command tent, crashing once he reached his own. The warmth of the fire within felt comforting. The Lieutenant Colonel closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to take his exhaustion away._

 _"Edward Elric."_

 _Edward's eyes snapped open, recognising the voice from earlier. He turned on his side, noticing a bird in front of the fire. Edward recognised it as a raven._

 _The Lieutenant Colonel raised an eyebrow, sitting up. "Did you…just talk?"_

 _"I just talked," the raven confirmed. "Sit."_

 _Edward cringed inwardly at the thought of General Olivier Mira Armstrong seeing him take orders from a bird, but something told him to comply. Edward got off his bed, wrapping the blanket around him as he sat in front of the fire. He looked down at the raven. "I don't understand this."_

 _"In due time," the bird said cryptically. "Mother war approaches. Death is all around."_

 _Edward pulled the blanket tighter around him. "That's already made itself obvious. Get to the point."_

 _"Three months. The demons of the forest kill."_

 _Edward's eyes narrowed. "What demons?"_

 _"Three months."_

 _Edward started to panic. What the hell was this bird getting at? "What? Tell me!"_

 _"It's okay. Don't be afraid."_

 _Edward reacted sharply, hearing the sound of a new voice, yet one so familiar to him. He looked up, seeing a large suit of armour sitting on the other side of the fire. The voice was gentle, yet vaguely inhuman._

 _"Alphonse," he breathed. Confusion set in. "No. That's not possible. You're human again; How the hell are you even here?! This can't be—"_

 _"Brother." The childlike voice was firm yet kind. "You're right; I did get my body back. And I'm not physically here. Not in this battle." Alphonse's armour-form looked intensely at him. "The Force has a strange way of working sometimes."_

 _The Force…hadn't Ahsoka mentioned it at one point? "I don't…" He sighed. "I don't get it, Al. The Force, everything, it's all new to me."_

 _"If it makes you feel better, I don't understand it a lot either," Alphonse admitted._

 _Edward looked into the flames, panic setting in to resigned acceptance of a strange possibility. "This isn't real, is it? This conversation, it's just a dream, right?"_

 _"That depends," Alphonse responded vaguely. "In a way, all dreams are real, just as experiences in the physical world are real. How we choose to interpret this…that's what we determine to be reality."_

 _Edward smiled mirthlessly. "So, reality could mean that I'm dying and I don't realise it yet, and I'm talking to this crazy bird and a younger version of you."_

 _"Possibly," Alphonse agreed. "But you have to figure that out for yourself, Ed. You alone can decide what is real or not in your own mind."_

 _Edward blinked, and his brother's armour was gone. He looked down at the raven, its gaze boring into his own. "Mind? Real?" the bird squawked. "Decide, Edward Elric. Three months. Decide."_

 _Edward blinked, finding himself staring at the ceiling of his tent. He was back in his cot, alone with the fire crackling within. The Lieutenant Colonel could hear the storm howling outside, the wind raging its fit around his little shelter. He sat up, walking to the fire, kneeling as he cooked some military-rationed broth on an improvised spit._

 _"Was that real?" he muttered. He frowned. "Maybe. If it was, was that the Force trying to tell me something?" He dismissed the idea. "But then again, what is the Force apart from a universal energy field?" Edward grabbed his blanket, wrapping it around him as he sat in front of the fire. He allowed the broth to boil as he pondered the—experience; there was nothing else he could relate to that would describe such an encounter. The closest would be the Gate…and this was tiny compared to Truth and his equally inscrutable lair._

 _"Mother war," Edward mused. "That could be a personification of the war against Drachma." He shook his head. "No; that's not it. The bird talked about an_ approaching _war; this one is already going on." He removed the broth, pouring it into a canteen for him to drink from sometime later._

 _"Maybe it's referring to a war that's going to happen in the future, one that I might be involved in." He frowned again, staring outside at the storm. "That is, if I live that long."_

 _He pulled the blanket tighter around him. "Demons of the forest; these could be soldiers. Or they could be something else entirely. The death part is obvious; but how is all of this going to make sense in three months?"_

 _Wind blew into the tent, and the fire went out. Edward stood, taking in the cold and the eerie silence around him. He blinked, once, twice—_

 _Suddenly he was thrown from his position, landing on his side in the snow. Edward lifted his head, vaguely aware of his skull pounding in protest. The Lieutenant Colonel watched in horror as his tent went up in flames a few metres to his left, hit by a Drachman missile. He stood, shaking, as more missiles landed around him, the screams of his men cut short as the explosions ripped them apart in a brutal and efficient manner. Edward's eyes widened, all of his will fighting as he told himself to run. He grabbed his canteen and a nearby blanket, both of which had somehow survived the attack, and fled deeper into the forest as more missiles joined the bombardment. He spotted a bear's den and took shelter just as the missiles reached his location. The shockwave caught up to him, throwing him like a ragdoll onto the unforgiving ground. Edward again landed on his side, head hitting a rock as everything abruptly turned black._

 _When he came to, Edward saw that it was daylight. He checked his head, which was no longer pounding, feeling blood scabbing over from a cut on his forehead. Other than that he seemed to be in good shape. He walked outside, back to his company's encampment, only to find the snow stained red and all of the tents ruined and on fire. He ran through the flaming wreckage, checking for survivors, finding none. The Lieutenant Colonel slumped to his knees, clenching his hands as tears of grief turned to ice on his face._

* * *

Sabine watched Edward closely, concern mounting as she noticed tears pouring down his deceptively serene face. She put a hand on his forehead, alarm increasing once she felt the tell-tale signs of a bad fever upon him. The Mandalorian cursed under her breath, the lack of a med-kit in the room proving to be a problem at the present. Xiao Mei awoke, blinking urgently at her, as if the panda also noticed how badly Edward was faring.

"I have to get help," she whispered. She looked around the room. Alphonse was out cold, and Sabine didn't want to wake him if she could help it. She gritted her teeth, looking intently at Xiao Mei. "I'm going to get a compress," she told the panda, gesturing to the other Elric. "If anything happens while I'm gone, don't hesitate to wake him. Can you do that for me?"

The panda nodded, sitting up on Edward's chest in a guard stance. Sabine ran out of the room, desperate to find something that would bring the fever down. She grabbed a towel out of the shower, doused it with water, and hurried back to Edward's bedside as quickly as she could.

The older brother looked to be in the middle of some sort of nightmare. He writhed around, groaning in pain. Sabine put the cloth on his forehead, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Shhh," she said soothingly. "Your brother's right over there. It'll be okay. Just go back to sleep."

After several moments, Edward seemed to relax a bit, but tears renewed themselves as he clenched the blankets in his hand. "Ni…" Sabine's brow furrowed. "What, Edward?" she asked. The man seemed to be upset about something. "Edward?"

"Ni…" he repeated, pain evident in his voice, in addition to something else. _Grief?_ She recognised that all too well. "Ni…na…"

* * *

 _Edward stared at the child in front of him, shaking on the battlefield. The little girl clutched her white dog as a form of refuge, both appearing in front of him as he had opened his eyes. He recognised her as flashbacks played back, phantoms across his vision, ones that reminded him of one of his worst waking nightmares. "Nina," he breathed, tears of grief renewing themselves as he remained kneeling in the blood-covered snow. Shards of ice cut hairline scrapes on his face, but he could not stop the tide. "You…you and Alexander…Why are you here?"_

 _Nina Tucker, who had died at the age of five after her father had transmuted her and her dog into a chimaera. Nina, who had died when Scar put her out of her misery. Nina, whom Edward and his brother could not save._

 _"Big brother," Nina said quietly, a questioning look in her eyes. "Why are you crying?"_

 _That was the breaking point for him. He found himself sobbing in agony and grief, unable to stand. His men had just been wiped out; why did he have to see this as well? Nina…_

 _"Big brother," Nina repeated, clutching his military jacket. "Don't cry."_

 _Unfortunately, that request just did not compute with him. Edward grasped her and Alexander, hugging them tightly as he sobbed into the latter's fur coat._

* * *

"He kept saying 'Nina,'" Sabine explained. "Do you know what he meant by that?"

 _Nina…_ Alphonse looked up at her, wanting nothing more than to not talk about it in front of the Mandalorian, or at all for that matter. She had woken him up moments earlier, informing him about Edward's fever and the nightmares. But Nina…

He took a deep breath. "Nina Tucker," he said quietly. _Sabine has to know about this, especially since she might ask Ed about it later if I don't tell her._ "She was the daughter of an alchemist who specialised in biology…and creating chimaeras."

"Chimaeras? As in the three-headed creatures with spider legs?"

"Not exactly," Alphonse explained grimly, making note to file that information for future reference. _I guess the galactic fauna had its own story behind it when it earned that name._ "The chimaeras I'm referring to are creatures comprised of two or more different animals by alchemical means. Some human chimaeras were created as well."

Sabine looked at him, eyes widening as she started to understand. "And Nina was one of these human chimaeras?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, voice cracking as he remembered the incident. "That bastard transmuted his five-year-old daughter and his dog into a sentient chimaera just so he could pass his assessment and keep his research licence."

Sabine's lip curled in disgust. "That's cruel."

Alphonse looked at the ground. "Ed and I were just kids when it happened. We had met Nina and her father in the hopes of researching biological alchemy, but when we saw what happened to Nina later…what her father had done…" He clenched his fists. _No. Don't cry. Don't you dare._ He steeled himself. "It absolutely broke Ed. He still hasn't stopped blaming himself for not being able to save her."

Sabine was silent for a moment, likely attempting to process this round of information. "What happened to her?"

Alphonse closed his eyes. "She died." He opened them, looking up to find a pained expression on the woman's face. She looked away, sighing. "Maybe that was for the best." She looked at Edward, grimacing. "He's not doing well, is he?"

Alphonse walked over to his brother's side, sensing the psychological pain within him, as well as pain of a physical sort. _I guess this sensing thing is part of the Force._ He clenched Edward's arm, noticing the too-warm flush on his face. He was definitely running a fever, all right, and a high one at that. "No," he told her. "He's not." He turned towards Sabine. "Do you have a medical kit here?"

"Yeah, but it's not in the room."

"Get it." Alphonse turned back to his brother. "We can't let his fever climb."

 _You won't go dark, so long as we're alive together._

Alphonse hardened his resolve as the Mandalorian went to grab the medical kit. "Don't die on me now, Ed," he told his brother seriously.

* * *

 _"Nina," Edward breathed. "Alexander. I'm so, so sorry."_

 _Nina tugged on his jacket. "Edward," she told him. "We're part of the reason you and Al moved forward, right?"_

 _Edward forced himself to look at her, unable to find the courage to speak, but his expression must have confirmed what Nina was saying. "Don't blame yourself. Alexander and I are fine now."_

 _Edward shook his head, remorseful. "I could have stopped him."_

 _"No," she disagreed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You couldn't."_

 _"If only I'd known how to—"_

 _Alexander barked, somewhat sternly. Edward looked up, the strange neurological mirror kicking in as he relived the nightmare…except this time it was from Nina's point of view. He experienced Nina's agony, her fear, her suffering before, during, and after the transmutation took place…over and over again. It felt like an eternity of pure hell. The Lieutenant Colonel screamed, his soul burning, physically shaking as the mirror shattered. Tremors plagued his body as the nightmarish sensation played back over and over and over again in his mind._

 _"I…I want…to die," he whimpered, reaching for his gun, fully aware of the tremors in his hand. "I want to die." Alexander tackled him, Nina moving to kneel next to his side. The dog let up, and Nina grasped his arm, a pleading expression on her face. "But what about the mission? You said this was for your family, for the galaxy. People are counting on you, Edward. Besides, you promised Alphonse you'd break the loop. You_ promised _."_

 _Edward looked at her, incredulous. How did she know about that? It hit him; this was his mind, the Force likely acting in tandem with it. They were trying to tell him something._

 _Nina nodded, as if confirming what Edward had realised. "Move forward, big brother," she told him sweetly. "Don't forget about your past, but don't dwell on it. They need you." Alexander barked in agreement._

 _Edward managed a sad smile as he hugged the little girl and her dog once again, closing his eyes so as not to forget the feeling. After a moment, he opened them again, only to find that they were gone._


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

 _EIGHTEEN YEARS EARLIER…_

"It's a pity that the war room was used in such a despicable manner," Führer-President Grumman lamented. The old man frowned. "I just pray we won't have to use it again any time soon."

Brigadier General Roy Mustang folded his arms, glaring at Central HQ's war room. Now that he could see again, he almost wished he could incinerate the deceit that had led up to the Promised Day and the treason of many in the upper echelon.

"Don't get so worked up, Mustang," Grumman reassured him, evidently realising the source of the Brigadier General's newfound anger. "That match is over now."

"Is it?" Mustang asked. He was about to continue when he saw Edward walking toward them, saluting Grumman with his newly-restored flesh right arm; a strange sight for Mustang, who was used to the teenager's hot-headedness and automail. The sixteen-year-old held something in his other hand: his State Alchemist's watch, in addition to some papers.

"Führer Grumman," he greeted the older man, dropping the salute after a few seconds. "Here are my resignation papers."

Grumman took the watch, raising an eyebrow as he pocketed it. Mustang had a feeling this was coming; since Fullmetal could no longer perform alchemy, there was no point in him being a State Alchemist anymore. He and his brother had achieved their goals and gotten their bodies back…with the exception of Edward's leg, which still necessitated the use of automail. Mustang knew he would miss the siblings dearly. Still, he found it quite curious that Grumman had not taken the resignation papers from Edward's hands.

Edward had already noticed this, too, exchanging a confused glance with Mustang before returning his gaze back toward the Führer.

Grumman looked intently at the teenager. "I accept your resignation as a State Alchemist, Edward Elric," he conceded. His expression was firm. "However, your resignation from the army is an entirely different story." He took Edward's resignation papers in one hand and placed a cigarette lighter in the other. Both underlings watched as the papers burned into cinders before their very eyes.

Mustang looked at the Führer, flabbergasted. Once glance at Edward revealed the former alchemist's equally surprised reaction. "I don't understand," the teenager said finally.

Grumman looked at him, a small wink in his eyes, as if he had been expecting this. "Brigadier General Mustang," he addressed. "Major Elric. Walk with me."

Wordlessly, they obeyed. Mustang found it remarkable that Edward now had the sense to stay silent when necessary. Perhaps it was the war…

Grumman ushered the two into his office, closing the door behind them. "Have a seat."

Mustang and Edward took the seats directly in front of the Führer-President's desk. Grumman sat down in front of them, placing his hands on the desk. "Treasonous ears still lurk around in the army, my friends," Grumman said, his words a cryptic warning. "There is still much to be done before Amestris can truly recover from recent events."

"Such as?" Edward queried. His eyes widened as Mustang elbowed him in the arm, an annoyed look on his face. "Uhh…Sir?" the former alchemist added quickly.

Grumman laughed slightly. "At ease, Major. You too, Mustang. You both have permission to speak freely." His expression turned serious. "It will take a long time to rebuild the upper echelon. Even now, we don't know how many are still devoted to the Homunculi's cause. That presents a problem for us." He glanced at Edward. "Young man, how familiar are you with chess?"

Edward shrugged. "Vaguely. I know there's a lot of strategy involved, but other than that…"

"See to it that you learn," Grumman ordered. "You have a lot of potential to be a tactician later on, Major Elric, and a pretty damn good one at that." His face fell. "That being said, you are still in a lot of danger as we speak. There are still those high within our ranks that would be interested in silencing the Fullmetal Alchemist once and for all. You are one of Amestris's greatest assets right now. We need your help in order to reshape this country."

Edward nodded slowly, processing the information. "Okay…but what about everyone else? Won't the rest of you also be targeted?"

Mustang decided to answer that question, knowing that it would be difficult for the teenager to understand at the moment. "There's no doubt about it," he admitted.

Grumman nodded in agreement, turning back to Edward. "I understand your concern, Major, which is why we need to hide you away until it is safe for you to return."

Edward stared at him, confused. "Hide me away?" he echoed. "But what about Al? And—"

"They will be just fine," Grumman reassured him. "You will simply need to play your part from here on out."

"What part?" Edward asked, clearly getting frustrated. "Are you saying—"

Mustang put a hand on his shoulder. "Fullmetal," he said sternly. "You need to know how to cool your head in times like this."

Edward shut up at that, though he didn't look very happy about it as he sent a small one-fingered salute the Brigadier General's way. Fortunately, Grumman wasn't in the line of sight to have seen it. The teenager dropped the rude gesture, although wariness was written all over his face. Mustang couldn't blame him.

"With all due respect, Führer-President," Mustang began, "Major Elric will still be listed as a commissioned soldier in the official military records. People will find it suspicious that he would be both hidden and enlisted at the same time. Wouldn't it be doomed to failure?"

"That depends on how the game is played," Grumman responded cryptically. "I'm certain you know your way around a chessboard, Mustang. This is exactly what is happening right now. This kind of Project requires one to plan several moves in advance, and anything can happen. It might fail, it might not. Who knows?"

"I still don't get what this has to do with me 'playing my part'," Edward muttered, making air quotes.

Grumman nodded. "That last part will be revealed to you soon enough, Major Elric," he assured the teenager. "In order not to raise suspicion, I will be making you a petty officer for the time being and giving you official leave until my retirement."

Mustang looked at him warily. _I don't know, Grumman. That seems like a dangerous move._ "With all due respect, sir, is that really a good idea? You could be in office for the next twenty or thirty years, and Major Elric—"

"Will be able to handle himself," Grumman reassured him. "I said I'd be giving him _'official'_ leave; that doesn't mean he's free to slack off." The Führer directed his gaze again toward Edward. "Young man, while you are on leave you are to act as an informant in the event that trouble arises in your area. Your role is to operate within the shadows of absolute secrecy. I will discuss the Project with you in private at nineteen hundred hours this evening. While you are gone, make it look as though you have completely returned to civilian life so as not to arouse suspicion from those around you. I will have more of my most trusted men keep in touch with you periodically concerning military matters." He turned. "As for you, Roy Mustang, I am appointing you and Captain Hawkeye as my bodyguards." He looked at both of them intently. "Can I trust you to play your roles in this next round of chess?"

Both underlings stood. "Yes, sir!"

Grumman dismissed them. The two walked toward the war room, ultimately choosing to enter. Edward took a seat, looking down at the table. Mustang raised an eyebrow as he shut the door behind them. "Something on your mind?"

"I'm keeping Al in the dark about this," Edward decided.

"I'm surprised," Mustang said. "I was thinking you would blab this out to him in a heartbeat."

Edward gave him a dry look. "I want to," he admitted. "But he just got his body back. He has a chance for a normal life, Mustang, and the last thing I want to do is take it away from him."

Mustang had to admit that the former alchemist had a point. "He'll find out sooner or later."

"I know he will," Edward agreed. He leaned back into the chair, pulling a face. "I still don't understand why Grumman bothered to keep me around, an impotent dog of the military."

"He seems to trust you quite a bit," Mustang pointed out. "And you're more than just a dog now, so don't think we'll forgetting that fact anytime soon." The Brigadier General smirked. "Grumman fancies chess; his proficiency with it enhances his strategies and put him a few moves ahead of others…including his own men. Judging from what went down a few minutes ago, I'd say that he sees something similar in you."

Edward blinked, evidently unable to think of a response. Mustang didn't know how, but he sensed the former alchemist's determination not to let his friends and comrades down behind the disquieted masque on his face. It was then that he knew with absolute certainty that Grumman was on to something…somehow.

Mustang sat at the front of the table, nodding encouragingly to Edward. "Let's get to work."

 _NOW…_

Mustang walked into Central HQ's war room, seeing all available members of the brass present. A phone line was set for Olivier to listen in as well; he had gotten Fuery to jury-rig it so the technology would function as an overall speaking device in addition to a telephone. He recognised some very old faces among the ranks present—General Alex Louis Armstrong, Brigadier General Riza Hawkeye, and newly-promoted Brigadier General Denny Brosh, whose higher rank was granted hours ago in response to the war declaration and his imminent transfer to the front lines—in addition to less familiar faces, mostly of hand-selected Major Generals, but a couple of Lieutenant Generals were present as well. It had been eighteen years since he had last set foot in this room. Last time, the only person looking up to him in here was Lieutenant Colonel Elric, newly relieved of his State Alchemist duties. Now, he saw the new face of the war council, all awaiting his authoritarian command.

 _Can I trust you to play your roles in this next round of chess?_ Mustang and Edward had followed Grumman's lead without question…a bold move in Edward's case. Eighteen years had passed since then, and the next round was about to begin, with Mustang himself as the new grandmaster.

He looked up, addressing all of the members of the brass present. "Thank you all for reporting to me on such short notice." He tilted his head slightly. "General Olivier Mira Armstrong, can you hear us?"

" _Oh, I can hear you all right,"_ the Ice Queen snapped. Almost all of the other soldiers present shifted in their seats, evidently having learned to fear the Northern Wall of Briggs. _"With your_ permission, _Führer-President, I'd like to skip the pleasantries and get on with it."_

Mustang nodded. "Granted. What is the current status right now?"

" _The storm's picking up again, so I am afraid I'll have to cut my part of the meeting short,"_ Olivier informed him, annoyed. _"The enemy has not made a move to attack, save for a formal declaration of war. My guess is that they wi…ting—"_ The connection started to break up. Mustang gritted his teeth, frustrated. "General Armstrong, repeat. What is it?" Static. "General?"

"Sir, we've lost the connection," Hawkeye informed him.

Mustang nodded, annoyance crossing his face. "So be it. All we can do now is figure out a plan for the short-term. Then it'll be wait-and-see from there."

* * *

Mustang was so glad that the war meeting was finally over.

Four hours, thirty-eight minutes. That was how long it took to come up with a solution that satisfied both the leader of Amestris and the military's top brass. He added fifteen minutes to that mix as he got in touch personally with General Olivier Mira Armstrong to report what had come out of that meeting. As much as he'd wanted Communications to do it, he couldn't risk the chance of accidentally getting patched into General Alex Louis Armstrong's line again. General Armstrong (the sister) was pleased with the results and reported that no shots had been fired yet. Mustang said for her to keep him posted. Now, he frowned, looking at the wall.

 _No shots ten hours after war was declared. That's strange._ Then again, as General Armstrong said, there _was_ a snowstorm going on. Perhaps the enemy had the sense not to attack in the middle of bad weather. _Maybe that's just as well._

 _No later than that thought occurred in his mind that his desk phone rang._ Mustang picked up the receiver. "Yes?"

 _"We just got confirmation of the first enemy shots, Führer-President,"_ Olivier informed him. _"They attacked as soon as the storm died down. Our forces have engaged."_

 _Speak of the devil. Things are just starting to get ugly._ "Acknowledged, General."

The call ended. Mustang put down the receiver, head in his hands. _This war really has begun. And here I thought we could get through to Drachma peacefully._ He picked up the phone again, putting in a call to the Northern Headquarters. Mustang knew that Olivier was already pissed enough about troops other than Briggs soldiers getting involved, but there wasn't much choice about that. The Ice Queen would need all the help she could get; that being said, he wanted to send in State Alchemists as an absolute last resort. Mustang wanted to avoid another repeat of Ishval at all costs. He could only hope that his logic was sound.

 _"F-Führer-President!"_ a stunned man's voice responded on the other end of the line. _"To what do we owe this pleasure?"_

Mustang blinked. _I'd rather not go through all the pleasantries right now, thanks._ "Soldier, state your name and rank."

 _"Colonel Timothy Quinn, sir!"_ The soldier seemed to be practically standing at attention. Mustang, however, had business to attend to, something that needed to be discussed with a higher-ranking official. "Colonel Quinn, as you might already know, as of eighteen-forty-seven hours this evening we are actively engaging in combat with the forces of Drachma. I need to speak to your Commanding Officer immediately regarding strategy."

 _"Right away, sir!"_

It was a full five minutes before the receiver was picked up at the other end. _"Führer-President Mustang, this is Major General Miles. It's good to talk with you again, sir, but I wish it was under better circumstances."_

Mustang's eyes widened. He definitely remembered Miles, all right, from his efforts during the Promised Day. "Miles," he greeted Olivier's former adjutant. "I thought you were reassigned to assist Ishval."

 _"I was,"_ Miles confirmed. _"Führer Grumman reassigned me again to North HQ last year; he was worried this war might be coming."_

 _I see._ So Grumman had known all-out war was inevitable after all, and Mustang had merely inherited the problem from him. "And Ishval?"

 _"Scar's got things covered over there. As for the current matter: Quinn said something about active fighting occurring about twenty minutes ago now, correct?"_

Mustang's expression darkened. "Yes. I received confirmation from General Olivier Mira Armstrong that the enemy had opened fire on the combined forces of Briggs and Bravo and Foxtrot Squads from North." He sighed. "I know how much faith General Armstrong has in Briggs's defences, but I don't want to take any chances now that we're in all-out war."

 _"Agreed. Are we to provide assistance, sir?"_

"Yes," Mustang confirmed. "Gather as many additional soldiers from the North Area as you can to reinforce the reinforcements; this includes shinies. I'll inform the CO for the Western Headquarters as well, since that area also shares a border with Drachma. You are to defer to General Armstrong upon your arrival at Briggs. Is that understood?"

 _"Yes, sir!"_

Once again, the call ended. Mustang dialled the line for Western HQ, but things did not go so smoothly this time.

 _"I'm sorry, sir,"_ the soldier on the other end apologised after Mustang asked to speak to her Commanding Officer _. "Lieutenant General Browning has been on sick leave all week due to stomach flu."_

Mustang cursed. "Is there anyone else I can talk to?"

 _"I'll see if I can get hold of Brigadier General Page for you, sir,"_ the soldier responded after a few seconds. _"She is the next-highest ranking officer in the area."_

"Very good," Mustang said approvingly. "Let me know as soon as possible."

 _"Yes, sir."_ For the third time that hour, another call ended.

* * *

"I need a drink," Sabine muttered.

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. The two were having a late breakfast in the galley, if one could call the meal that. Everyone on the ship was adjusting to the seventy-two-hour rotation of this planet, the process of which was painfully slow. "What happened to you trying to be sober?" the Togruta asked.

Sabine sighed. "Too many things." _Some of which I really don't want to talk about right now._

"Is this about the Elrics?"

"Yeah," Sabine said grimly. _Not to mention those fever dreams._ "We managed to get Edward's fever down by half a degree, but he's still pretty high up."

"How high was it when you last checked?"

Sabine pulled a face. "Forty degrees centigrade."

Ahsoka looked at her, surprised. "That high?" Sabine nodded. The Togruta whistled in annoyance. "Is anyone watching him right now?"

"Alphonse," Sabine responded. "Mei turned in about an hour ago." She frowned. "If Edward's fever goes past forty-two, he's toast."

Ahsoka nodded sympathetically. "We'll need to do everything we can to keep him alive." The Togruta gave her a stern look. "That means _no alcohol,_ Sabine."

"Whatever."

"Hey, this applies to all of us," Ahsoka reassured her. "Besides, you wanted to cut back, right? Now would be a good time."

"It's not as easy as it looks," Sabine pointed out mildly.

"Well, if you don't start fixing it now it will only be harder to do so later."

Sabine stretched. "I appreciate the advice, Ahsoka, but right now, I'm more concerned about that fever."

Ahsoka frowned. "Just don't do anything too dangerous to your health."

Sabine gave her a once-over. "I could say the same to you. How's your head?"

"It's okay," Ahsoka admitted. She leaned back against the wall. "The night terrors are a different story."

"I know." Sabine frowned. "How have you been able to live with that?"

Ahsoka pondered the question. "I don't know if I've ever really thought about it," she said at last. "During and after the Clone Wars, all I could really afford to focus on was surviving and making sure that the galaxy would eventually be free of the Empire. For the past few years, that focus was toward the mission. But this…" she frowned. "Maybe this is Truth's way of telling me to stop and think about what the hell we actually set out to do here."

"Well, the truth hurts," Sabine pointed out mildly. "But we set out to find Ezra. And we _will_ find him."

"What makes you think Thrawn hasn't killed him by now?" Ahsoka countered. "Neither of us know for certain if he's still alive, Sabine." She snorted. "And yet we're still out here, even though all we could potentially end up finding is a corpse."

"It's better than finding nothing. One way or another, we _will_ be bringing Ezra home."

Ahsoka stood, getting ready to put her dishes away. "There's still the matter of ourselves." She frowned. "Especially now that we've got three others tagging along with us."

Sabine understood. "You don't want to get them killed, do you?"

"Of course I don't!" Ahsoka sighed. "So much is happening all at once, Sabine. We've got this to deal with now, on top of finding Ezra. I'm worried about them, Alphonse in particular."

Sabine raised an eyebrow. " _Alphonse?_ Shouldn't you be more worried about Edward?"

"Ordinarily, yes," she admitted. "But the Elric brothers…the younger one in particular, they've been through all sorts of hell. One might argue that it's much worse of a nightmare than the Purge. I'm just concerned about the dark side."

"Dark side or not, we have a mission to complete," Sabine said firmly. "I'll leave it to the rest of you guys to deal with all of that Force jargon."

"It's not jargon!" the Togruta protested.

Sabine took a sip of blue milk. "It is to me," she responded. "I didn't understand it when Kanan and Ezra were—" She faltered, remembering what happened to them in the days leading up to Lothal's liberation. But Ahsoka seemed to get the gist of it. "And you don't understand it now," she finished, weariness on her face. She turned, placing the now-clean dishes in the cabinet. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't understand all of it myself. All I know is that it is a universal flow, but it's not absolute. There's another part of it that is, but it's better not to get into that. I don't especially want to heat up a discussion of what _is_ absolute and what isn't."

"And what about alchemy?"

Ahsoka tensed. "I hate it."

Sabine frowned. "Why?"

"It's a practice more in line with the dark arts," Ahsoka said grimly. "The Jedi had denounced it because they thought it was treason against the Force itself. Granted a lot of things can be viewed as such, but I don't necessarily agree with that stance. I saw a lot of things during the Clone Wars and during my time on Malachor that made me question that view. From a scientific standpoint, the Force can be viewed as energy, but from a spiritual standpoint it can mean so much more. It's not easy to explain. But like all of us, alchemists are susceptible to being corrupted by the dark side—no," she decided, contemplating this further, "they seem to be _more_ susceptible. One false move can utterly destroy the alchemist wielding the Force in that regard. It can also hurt innocents and hurt those that are ignorant and get caught in its traps. _That's_ why I hate it."

Sabine considered this. "Alphonse and his girlfriend don't seem to be that bad," she commented. She frowned. "Is Edward an alchemist?"

"No," Ahsoka told her. "But he _is_ Force-sensitive, like them."

"And what do you think of them?"

Ahsoka closed the cabinet, walking back to the table. "They're not bad, but they're not good either."

"Define 'good' and 'bad', here."

Ahsoka shrugged. "They're not full-on _Vader,_ that's for sure," she responded, using the late Sith Lord's name as an epithet. "But I keep getting this weird vibe from Alphonse. It's not a feeling that I particularly like."

"Well, keep in mind that he's going through a lot lately," Sabine pointed out mildly. "Especially since he just found out that his brother's more than likely going to war after this."

Ahsoka looked at her, startled. "Wait…what?"

"I think it would be better for _them_ to explain it to you once they recover," Sabine said seriously. "But, going back to the previous topic, just give them a chance, Ahsoka. Who knows; maybe things will turn out differently."

"If you say so."

* * *

As it had turned out, Brigadier General Page was available after all. Mustang had made her aware of the predicament up north, to which she had responded by "respectfully" scolding him.

 _"With all due respect, sir, we would only be leaving the West more and more vulnerable to attacks from Drachma and Creta if we sent all of our soldiers to Briggs in some suicide mission."_

Mustang had to resist the urge to incinerate the phone line. "While your point is valid, General, we are at war. And I am not asking you to send _all_ of your soldiers; only a couple of squads. The rest will remain to defend the western border."

 _"Führer-President, I think you are missing the point,"_ the Brigadier General retorted. _"We cannot even spare that much. All of our soldiers will remain here. Those are my orders, and they will be followed without question."_

Mustang stood, clenching the receiver. He did not want to deal with this bullshit right now. "Need I remind you that I am your superior, Brigadier General?"

 _"No, sir,"_ she responded. _"But you are still missing the point, sir. We cannot spare anyone; if we do, we will be seen as weak and Creta will interpret it as such. Drachma will pounce, as will Creta, and with all due respect, sir, they will follow only what I have to say while Lieutenant General Browning is out, and—"_

"ELISABETH." His tone was icy, grinding out her first name just to get the nettlesome soldier to shut up for once. "Your insubordination is not appreciated. Secondly, your concerns are misplaced; we are at war with Drachma, not Creta. I have no idea what universe you are in to have gotten that perception, but—"

 _"This universe, sir. And what the hell makes you think that this is insubordination? I'll have you know, sir, that this is a wartime matter—"_

"Which is why you are, as of right now, relieved of duty," Mustang hissed. "You are driving me batshit crazy right now, General."

 _"Try me, sir."_

Mustang snapped his fingers, sending a fireball into a trash bin near his desk. "You really want me to do that?" he asked coldly. "Congratulations, Page. You're demoted."

The woman's outrage was palpable. _"Go fuck yourself, you stupid—"_

"And be present at Central Headquarters at oh eight hundred hours tomorrow for your court-martial. Good day." He slammed the receiver, steam practically coming out of his ears from his enraged mood. That termagant had absolutely no authority to reprimand him of a war that didn't even exist, and—

"Führer Mustang, your trash can is on fire! Back away for your own safety!"

Of course he _had_ to forget about the goddamn trash can. He looked down, seeing a metre-high column of fire emitting from the papers in the bin. Mustang gritted his teeth and moved, letting the military police handle the blaze. He glanced at the bewildered Corporal nearby. "I'll be taking a quick walk around HQ if anyone wants to speak to me."

The twenty-something-year-old soldier saluted him. "Understood, sir."

Mustang left his office, vaguely aware of a strange cold feeling within his rage. He had felt it once before, a hundred or so times stronger, during his fight with Envy on the Promised Day. He pushed it away, diverting his focus to the war. There was no way he could afford to be dragged into that freezing sensation.

 _I am definitely hitting the military bar tonight,_ he thought grimly.

"I haven't seen you this bad in years, Mustang," a voice next to him remarked. "Are you alright, sir?"

Mustang paused, turning toward the soldier. He relaxed, recognising him. "It's been a shitty evening, Major," he admitted.

Major Kain Fuery snorted. "Do tell."

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah." Fuery folded his arms. Despite being several centimetres shorter than him, the younger man had a look in his eyes that was imposing. "I had to chew a few heads off in Communications about getting the lines for the General Armstrong siblings mixed up. No one had bothered to consider labelling which line was which now that both of them have the same rank." He paled slightly. "I've already had to deal with the Ice Queen's wrath more than once this week. And the other…" The Major paused briefly, as if regretting the mental image concocting in his mind. "Why does he have to strip whenever something goes wrong?"

"You're asking the wrong person, Major."

Fuery shrugged. Mustang changed the subject. "You don't happen to know a soldier by the name of Elisabeth Page by any chance, do you?"

"Breda mentioned her a few times when I asked him about his time at Western Headquarters, sir, but I haven't met her personally." Fuery paused. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

The Major glanced around to make sure they were alone before continuing. "I know it's not my place to talk like this about another soldier, but, according to Breda, that woman's a good sniper, but her political views concerning Creta are so weird it's not funny. She believes they're always out to get us and was a heavy supporter of Führer Bradley's militaristic regime. I don't know _how_ they let her be promoted to Brigadier General."

 _That explains a lot,_ Mustang figured annoyedly. "Well, that woman's about to face a court martial in the morning for trying to undermine me."

"She did what now?"

"John Browning's on sick leave, so she assumed command at West," Mustang explained exasperatedly. "Somehow the power must have gone to her head and possessed her to try and one-up both me and the Lieutenant General."

"Oh boy." Fuery likely knew just where this was going. "She was going on about possible attacks from Creta, wasn't she?"

"Yep. After I demoted her for repeated insubordination, she…didn't take too kindly to that and essentially flipped me off over the phone."

"Hence the court martial," Fuery guessed. "What exactly _was_ it that she said, sir?"

"Why does it matter to you?"

The Major shrugged. "Curiosity, sir. My specialty _is_ in Communications, after all."

 _Thanks for the reminder,_ Mustang thought sarcastically. "She said, quote, 'Go fuck yourself,' end quote."

Fuery mulled that over for a few seconds. "Have you spoken to Lieutenant General Browning about it yet, sir?"

"Not yet," Mustang admitted. "I'll do that shortly. Then I'm going out for drinks. All of you are welcome to join me."

"I'll extend the invitation, sir."

"Good," Mustang said, finally having something to look forward to. "Have everyone meet me in the East Wing Lobby at twenty-two thirty."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed." Fuery left after that. Mustang returned to his office, assured by the Police Marshal that the area was safe to return to. Hawkeye stood there, eyebrow raised as she followed him in.

"Sir, what possessed you to set that poor trash can on fire?" she asked, both parts annoyed and concerned.

He glanced up at her, sighing wearily. _The sooner I get this over with, the better._ "I needed to let out some steam." He changed the subject, not desiring to elaborate. Mustang dialled the number of Lieutenant General Browning's personal residence, knowing that neither man would be looking forward to this conversation.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Alphonse checked his brother's temperature again for the third time that hour. It had been easier once Sabine had walked him through how to use an electronic thermometer, but the numbers hadn't been too promising early on.

 _Beep._ He looked at the display, frowning. _39.6 degrees Celsius._ The fever was going down, which was an improvement, but it wasn't what he had hoped for. Edward's temperature was still way too high.

"Damn it," he muttered, glancing at Edward. From the looks of it, the fever dreams seemed to have subsided for the moment. The former alchemist was sound asleep, although he occasionally showed signs of discomfort from the temperature. Xiao Mei was sound asleep on the man's chest, the panda's soft breathing helping Alphonse relax a bit.

More beeping sounded. Alphonse looked down, noticing the communicator Sabine had left with him on her previous shift. He pressed the "on" button, still marvelling inwardly at how wireless the transmission was. "Hello?"

 _"How's your brother's condition?"_ Sabine asked.

Alphonse sighed. "Temperature is at thirty-nine-point-six. It's going down, but he's not looking too good."

 _"At least it's going down,"_ the Mandalorian said bluntly. _"Ahsoka's taking the next shift in about twenty minutes."_

Twenty minutes. Alphonse frowned. "I appreciate it, Sabine, but I should—"

 _"No offence, Alphonse, but the last time I looked in on you, you looked like you were dead on your feet,"_ Sabine retorted. _"You need to get some rest."_

"But—"

 _"No buts,"_ Sabine snapped. _"We need everyone operating on all cylinders, especially if Ed has a chance of surviving this."_

 _He's already made it through one standard night. He'll be okay if you get a little bit of rest._ Alphonse nodded, even though he knew Sabine couldn't see him. "All right," he conceded. "Just wake me when it's my turn."

The transmission ended. Alphonse looked at Edward's unconscious form, the older sibling pale underneath the blankets. He didn't know if his brother was having more fever dreams, or if he was too weak to even give any indication of what was going on in his head.

It felt like an eternity, but the twenty minutes Sabine had given him soon arrived. Ahsoka walked in, a tired expression on her face. He could sense her wariness of him clear as day, but he decided not to bring that up.

"You should sleep," the Togruta said briskly.

"Same goes for you," Alphonse retorted.

Her eyes narrowed. "Now is _not_ the time to argue, Alphonse."

"I don't exactly give a damn at the moment," he snapped. "Ed needs to be watched—"

"And I'll watch him," Ahsoka said sternly. "If you want to help your brother, get some rest. Otherwise, go keep an eye on Sabine. I think she's starting to become an alcoholic."

"She can deal with it on her own."

"Can she?" Ahsoka challenged. She folded her arms. "I'm starting to wonder if _you_ can 'deal with it' either."

Alphonse knew what "it" was. He rolled his eyes. "You have no idea—"

"Try me." The Togruta's voice was pure venom.

There was a sudden feeling in his gut that he shouldn't argue with her at the moment. He sighed, seeing no other way out of this. "Okay, fine. I'll rest." He got up and went to his own bed, where sleep took over almost instantly.

* * *

Ahsoka heaved a sigh of relief as soon as she saw that Alphonse was finally asleep. "I am _so_ glad that's over with." She glanced down at Edward. There was something weird about the brothers…at least, in terms of the Force. Alphonse's presence had the coldness of the dark side, but he had not fallen yet. Edward…he was like a river, ebb and flow. Sometimes she could sense him, but other times she could not. If she didn't know better, she'd argue that he was similar to the Bendu, but that wasn't the case here. The former alchemist's presence was, for the lack of a better term, ambivalent. She turned her thoughts towards Alphonse's girlfriend, Mei Chang, and found that she leaned more towards the Light Side of the Force. She might have made a good Jedi…but given what the Order had doomed itself to that very notion was questionable. Ahsoka shifted her focus to Xiao Mei and found that the tiny creature was semi-sentient, in addition to having a very strong bond with Mei Chang.

 _That explains Alphonse's weird vibe,_ she thought. _As for his brother…what is he? How could I not have sensed any of this earlier?_

"Truth," she whispered aloud, knowing the answer. "I was so caught up in what had happened with me that I wasn't paying attention to what was going on." She sighed. "I should have seen all of this; Sabine's alcoholism, Alphonse going down the warpath, Edward…all of it. How could I have been so blind?"

Edward's unconscious form gave no response. She hadn't expected one, really. There were two things she took away from that experience: one, she had to find out how best to stay alive without her kinaesthetic echolocation; two, the Elric brothers needed to get their Force issues under control.

It was the only way they could even hope to survive.

* * *

The afternoon was not a fun time to be awake on this planet.

Five pots of coffee, Alphonse soon realised, was not the best way to acclimate to a seventy-two-hour day. It was already bad enough that just thinking about it made it go so much longer, but they would have to go over a standard day in what would normally be eight hours or so of sunlight.

And then there were Edward's fever dreams to worry about, not to mention that holocron.

* * *

 _SEVEN YEARS EARLIER…_

Alphonse felt something calling to him. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something calling to him. Not verbally, though; the weird part was that this feeling was resonating with his soul. The closest thing he could think of that would match this feeling was when his soul had started to reject the armour in favour of its body (which had been wasting away at the Gate), but it wasn't like that.

It was just…strange.

The merchant bazaar this part of Xing was crowded, with several street vendors shouting towards pedestrians, advertising the prices on whatever products they wanted to sell. The twenty-six-year-old alchemist had seen it before on his previous trips to Xing; why should this one be any different?

Alphonse kept walking, barely paying attention to whatever it was the vendors were shouting about. All he had come down to this street for was to pick up some food for dinner. DINNER. Nothing else. He had told himself that countless times throughout the past several hours. None of that seemed to matter now, because he found himself being drawn toward whatever was resonating with his soul. Alphonse relied solely on instinct to guide him to his destination, all too uncertain about what was going on.

 _Now might be a good time to practice my Xingese,_ he thought. Even though he had been studying the language for the past three years, he was barely proficient. Mei had taught him the basics, but he had rarely been able to use it in Amestris. He hoped a more immersive experience would help improve his language skills.

"Fans! Only fifty yang!"

"Get your buns here! Six yang! Six yang, my friends!"

"Six? Ha! I'll give my buns to you people for _four!_ "

"Four?!" the second vendor bellowed to the third, outraged. "All right—" followed by something that Alphonse couldn't understand but was presumably at least one expletive. "I'll do it for three-point-five!"

Alphonse shook his head. _The street vendors here are competitive, that's for sure._ Even though he had stopped by the bazaar for food, something told him to come back for it later. The resonance in his soul continued to guide him, leading him toward a tent three-quarters of the way down the block. The alchemist paused. Whatever was resonating with his soul was definitely inside.

"If this is a tourist trap, I'm leaving," he muttered under his breath. He stepped inside, eyes widening at the various odds and ends inside. Items ranged from candles to jewellery to paintings and curios and so much more. Near as he could tell, this place was empty compared to the hustle and bustle outside.

"Okay," he whispered. "Not a tourist trap."

Alphonse couldn't describe the feeling that he had in this particular shop, but it had to be something between beautiful and strange. There were no electric lights here, just candles at various places in areas that would not ignite the tent. Alphonse looked curiously at a painting on an easel, seeming to depict strange whale-like creatures moving through the stars. Even though it piqued his interest, Alphonse knew that the image was not what had brought him here in the first place.

"Fine creatures, purrgil. However, that is not why you are here, is it, youngling?"

Alphonse stiffened. He heard the Xingese clearly, but the word "purrgil" was not a familiar one. The alchemist turned toward the speaker, a long-haired old man with a wistful look in his eyes. "How do you know that?" he asked in Xingese, amazed.

The man smiled sadly, wrinkles prominent around his onyx eyes. "I've seen the eyes of many different people throughout all these years. Your eyes betray your confusion…and your curiosity."

Alphonse looked at him, hoping he understood the language correctly. "What are you talking about?"

The old man gestured for him to follow. Alphonse, seeing no other option, obeyed. They went deeper into the tent, eventually finding an entrance to a chamber underground. The young alchemist followed him down the ladder, though he noted that it had to be several metres deep.

"Where are we going?" he asked, knowing his Xingese was heavily accented.

"Down," was the only response he got. And down they went. Alphonse could not tell how many minutes had passed, but they eventually reached the bottom. The alchemist disembarked from the ladder, the resonance in his soul growing stronger.

He noticed a strange crimson pyramid in a glass cabinet several metres in front of him, and everything seemed to click.

* * *

 _NOW…_

Alphonse removed the pyramid from his pocket, glancing at it briefly. "What is it that I am becoming?" he whispered. "The Dark Side…just what the hell _is_ it?"

He heard footsteps and immediately hid the holocron. He looked up, half expecting Ahsoka, but instead saw Sabine. The Mandalorian looked exhausted.

"How's Ed?" he asked.

Sabine shrugged. "Still feverish, still out of it. The shock really did a number on him." She frowned. "I don't get it; getting drunk twice in a couple of days shouldn't have done that. The seizure, yeah, that, I can understand. But the other stuff?"

Alphonse shrugged. "His automail ports were on the fritz, so that made things worse." He didn't want to bring up the mirror. Not yet.

Sabine tilted her head. "You keep talking about that prosthetic as though it was an actual part of his body or something."

It was during one of these times that Alphonse wished Winry was there to explain the full concept of it; Edward knew first-hand how automail worked but Alphonse didn't know as much as either of them did. Alchemy was his main area of expertise. He glanced back at Sabine, knowing that he had to at least try to provide some form of an explanation for what his brother was going through. "Automail is complicated," he said finally. "From what little I understand of it the user has to go through excruciating surgery just to get the ports installed in the first place. That includes putting each individual nerve through an interface so the limb can respond as though it was part of the organic component. Every now and then, the limbs need to be adjusted or replaced, hence why automail engineering is a major field of study in Amestris."

Sabine nodded, evidently impressed. "For a planet that hasn't developed air transportation, your homeworld looks to be highly advanced in terms of prosthetic technology…more advanced than some other parts of the galaxy. Why not share it with the rest of us?"

Alphonse folded his arms. "It's not like we have a lot of access to offworlders. Besides, Hagane isn't the safest planet out there; we're just about always at war over one thing or another."

"I'm just amazed you were able to stay hidden from the Empire."

Alphonse chose not to respond to that remark. Not only did he not understand galactic politics, he just didn't want to talk about some of the nastier situations Hagane, Amestris in particular, had experienced over the past several centuries. He hated not knowing enough about a problem that needed to be solved.

Sabine stood. "Come on; I want to show you something."

Alphonse got up, following. They walked over to what looked to be a communication relay a few doors down from the bridge. Sabine gestured to the array of technology. "This is where we can do our ship's logs if we want to," she explained. "The chronometer is right here"—she gestured to a clock on the desk— "and the data recorder is here." She pointed to a computer, switching it on. "Mei set the date to the Amestrian calendar so it will be easier for you to access if you want to see information from a certain time."

Alphonse tilted his head, marvelling at the technology presented to him. "Wouldn't it make more sense to write it down?"

"Perhaps," Sabine admitted. "However, paper hasn't been used by the majority of the galaxy for several thousand years. We rely on this sort of technology in addition to electronic data pads. In some cases, video logs such as this one might be more convenient."

Alphonse sat down in the chair, looking curiously at the screen. "Is this thing recording?"

"Not until you push the green button in front of your face."

* * *

 **SHIP'S LOG: 14 SEPTEMBER 1933, 1453 HOURS GST**

 **ALPHONSE: Well, this is interesting.**

 _ ***Alphonse turns to face Sabine***_

 **ALPHONSE: So, I just talk into this thing, right? I can say anything?**

 _ ***Sabine nods***_

 **ALPHONSE: Okay, great, thanks.**

 _ ***Alphonse sighs, turns back to face the screen***_

 **ALPHONSE: Here goes.**

 **ALPHONSE: Hello. My name is Alphonse Elric. I am an alchemist from a planet known as Hagane.**

 _ ***Alphonse briefly marvels at his surroundings***_

 **ALPHONSE: It feels surreal being in a different part of the galaxy, let alone being on another planet. I don't know how long we will be here. I don't know the name of the planet, or where the hell we are right now, except for the fact that we're somewhere in what's known as "Wild Space". So…that's pretty much the story of where we've been for the past four days. The whole eastern hemisphere of this planet is covered with some sort of massive transmutation circle that I've never seen before, but I don't want to describe it too much because it definitely looks to be in violation of a tonne of alchemical laws. What I** _ **can**_ **say is that it's a transmutation circle that's got taboo inside of a much larger, much stranger circle. Other than that, I'm going to keep my mouth shut.**

 **I'll be honest, I have no clue how these ship's logs work. Is this data for the ship, or is it a tape recorder of some sorts? I've never seen technology like this. It's amazing.**

 _ ***Alphonse turns back to Sabine***_

 **ALPHONSE: What is "GST?"**

 **SABINE: Galactic Standard Time. It's the time zone that most people adhere to when travelling outside of their home planets.**

 **ALPHONSE: I don't get it.**

 **SABINE: Give it time.**

 _ ***Alphonse shrugs***_

 **ALPHONSE: Okay…**

 _ ***Alphonse turns back to the monitor, not taking his eyes off of the screen***_

 **ALPHONSE: Today's date is 14 September 1933. Who knows what could be going on back home. Ed got recruited for the war effort to push back Drachma, but this mission evidently takes precedence because Führer-President Mustang said so. Right now, our main goal is to take out that transmutation circle and get the hell out of here. At least one person has already gotten hurt—there might have been more. Who knows.**

 **Speaking of Ed, I think he'll be okay. We're all taking turns keeping an eye on him so he doesn't do anything else that could end badly. Speaking of…my next shift starts in a few minutes, so I'll make this quick.**

 **I'll start out by summarising how this all started in the first place. Two offworlders visited Amestris almost a week ago, in search of fuel. They're actually here with us. Sabine Wren is right behind me. She's from a world known as Krownest, which, judging from what she had described to Ed, and from what he later told me, seems to be a planetary version of Briggs. Ahsoka Tano, on the other hand, is vastly different. She isn't human at all; she's a Togruta. She's from a different part of the galaxy than Sabine is, but I guess the technology is possible for anyone from any part of the galaxy to meet one another and speak the same language. Just…not on Hagane. Not at the moment…give or take the language part.**

 **Ahsoka lived through two galaxy-wide wars: the Clone Wars, and the Galactic Civil War. She used to be in the military during the former, although I don't know what rank she held. She also used to be a Jedi. From what I had heard, the Jedi were wiped out right as the Clone Wars ended, so I guess she's essentially lucky to be alive. She also seems to be pretty knowledgeable about the Force; I'll have to ask her about it sometime later, because I'm still trying to understand it myself. Turns out all alchemists are Force-sensitive, so that includes me, my girlfriend, and my brother.**

 _ ***Alphonse leans forward on the desk, resting his head on his hands, propped up by his elbows and the lower parts of his arms***_

 **ALPHONSE: Truthfully, with regard to Ed, it's complicated. In giving up his Gate of Truth, Ed's connection to the Force started to abnormalize. It's as though there's some sort of…Force mirror or something. There's not really a name for it. It's just** _ **there.**_

 _ ***Alphonse checks the on-screen chronometer, which currently reads 1458 hours GST***_

 **ALPHONSE: Crap, my shift's about to start.**

 _ ***Alphonse looks frantically across the screen***_

 **ALPHONSE: How do I turn off this thing?**

 **Maybe it's the red button…**

* * *

Yep, it was indeed the red button. Alphonse stood, exiting the room to keep watch over his brother. Sabine, meanwhile, made to exit the ship. When the alchemist arrived, the sight he saw was not encouraging. Edward was still sleeping but looked paler than the last time Alphonse had checked in on him. He put a hand on his brother's forehead, feeling the heat roiling from the sensation. The thermometer yielded fewer promising results; Edward's temperature had climbed again, this time to 39.9 degrees Celsius. Even though it had only gone up three tenths of a degree since he had last checked on him, Alphonse found that small amount unnerving. All he could hope to do about the fever right now was wait.

* * *

A/N: Some tidbits:

I. 39.6 ºC = 103.28 ºF

II. 39.9 ºC = 103.82 ºF


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

A/N: Longest chapter so far! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 _Edward staggered into the command tent, about ready to collapse. His uniform was covered in blood, most of it his own from being hit with enemy bullets, but that was just the physical pain; tremors and memories of the visions were still there. And then there was that raven to worry about._

" _Lieutenant Colonel!"_

 _Edward looked up sharply, using what strength he had to salute Olivier Mira Armstrong. The silver-haired General's blue eyes were piercing, but he sensed that the gesture was not unsympathetic. "I was just informed about the attack on your company," she told him. "Were there any other survivors?"_

 _It took all of Edward's mental efforts just to stay conscious. "No…ma'am."_

 _Olivier's eyes narrowed. "For fuck's sake, Elric, stay awake. Explain your injuries."_

" _Ambush," Edward said quietly. "Enemy soldiers…out of nowhere…I…we fought…" He fell to his knees, no longer able to stand. His vision swam as dizziness started to make him nauseous. Was he really bleeding that badly?_

" _Mother…war…" he whispered, the raven's cryptic message coming to mind. Another feeling came to him. "Fire," he breathed, the word barely making it past his tongue. He vaguely heard Olivier running toward him, her voice muffled as though it were underwater. "Winry…"_

" _Stay…me," Olivier said sternly, but Edward couldn't catch all of it. "Stay…with me…Elric…"_

* * *

"Stay with me," Ahsoka hissed, feeling the former alchemist's erratic pulse. "Stay with me, Edward Elric! Come on!"

She had only been keeping watch over Edward for about twenty minutes or so when things had suddenly gone from bad to worse. The fever dreams had evidently returned, and his temperature had spiked even higher to 41.2 degrees Celsius. Which was to say…it was very, very bad.

 _I thought this was over already,_ she thought grimly. She recalled her first day as a Padawan, when she and Anakin had rescued Jabba the Hutt's sick son on Teth. Edward could be treated with similar medicine…couldn't he?

 _You'd better figure that out,_ she told herself sternly. _Else he's not going to last through another night of this._

She rummaged through the med-kit, injecting a sedative into him. Edward's breathing calmed, but another look at the thermometer told her that her actions weren't working nearly fast enough. She switched to a bacta injection, hoping that, at least, would cool him down.

"Please work," she prayed softly, grimacing. Fifteen long minutes passed, and Ahsoka checked Edward's temperature again. She waited, and waited…

 _Beep._

She looked down at the display. _39 degrees Celsius._ She sighed in relief. Even though Edward was still running a fever, it was quite a bit lower than it had been earlier.

"Remind me to program a medical interface into this ship sometime," she muttered to no one in particular. She just hoped they wouldn't need anything close to that again.

* * *

 _Edward looked at the night sky, the scenery beautiful within the snowfall._

 _Beautiful…considering this was enemy territory._

 _He had this strange sort of feeling that he was lighter somehow, despite the bloodshed that was taking place. Hazy visions flickered across the man's eyes, visions of possible scenarios concerning how the war might turn out for him. None of the ones he saw so far had been too good…but were they real? They certainly felt like it, but at the same time…_

" _Three months."_

 _Edward stiffened. There was that damn raven again. Once again, he wondered why the hell it was so interested in him. Didn't that bird have any other soldiers to harass?_

 _A dark shadow made him look up. The bird was diving towards him. Edward flinched, closing his eyes as he shielded his face with his arms._

" _Seriously?"_

 _Edward blinked, hearing the sound of his own voice—be it a bit higher-pitched. He opened his eyes, seeing the fifteen-year-old hothead version of himself glaring at him._

 _Edward moved his arms down, returning the glare. "Yes, seriously," he said sternly. "We're in a war zone, kid. You're not supposed to be here."_

 _The younger version snorted. "And who are you to judge?"_

 _Edward rolled his eyes as he folded his arms. "Oh, boy. I can't believe I was such an obnoxious midget—"_

" _WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE CAN FIT BETWEEN TWO FLAKES OF SNOW WITH PLENTY OF ROOM TO SPARE?" the younger Edward roared, charging at him. Edward deflected his younger self's blows with ease, eventually pinning him against a tree. "Nobody, asshat," he hissed. "Now shut the fuck up before you get us both killed!"_

 _The fifteen-year-old grinned maniacally. "I don't give a damn if it's Homunculi or those Drachman bastards," he said. "I'm going to beat the shit out of them until this war is over!"_

 _Edward tightened his grip on his teenage self. "Are you even listening to yourself? War isn't a game, kid."_

" _I'm not a kid!"_

" _Well, you're sure as hell acting like one!" Edward snapped back. "Al isn't here; it's just us and potentially a fuck-tonne of angry Drachmans who are just itching to get another taste of Amestrian blood. This isn't like any other time; you win, or you die."_

 _The teenager refused to meet his eyes. Edward—the older—sighed, letting go of him. "Listen to me, Fullmetal," he said quietly, referring to the alchemist he once was by his title. "War is hell; we both know that. There will soon come a day for you when you will need to realise that there might be a need to kill in order to save many."_

" _Are you listening to yourself?" Fullmetal retorted. "It's just like in the tent, with Al. This isn't your past self that is speaking to you; I am the version of you that feels like we are trapped in this nightmare! We are ill! You haven't gotten involved in this war yet; you're on a mission to some planet in Wild Space with Al, Mei, and a couple of offworlders! All those times you have died in this war; those are just fever dreams like this one is! You have to wake up!"_

 _Edward looked up toward the stars. "If this is a dream, then why are there soldiers dying in front of me as I watch? Most of the time, the snow I walk through is red, not white. I remember visions of a raven both here and on Hagane. 'Three months,' it said. Something is coming. But what is it?" He glanced at Fullmetal. "You-I mean, I, I mean…we…if that's true, then here…we're just phantoms. Us, Al, Nina, Alexander…even General Armstrong. None of it was real…was it?"_

" _Interpret it how you will," Fullmetal responded. "I'm just the part of you that wants to stay alive."_

 _Edward was about to object, but another familiar voice stopped him. "You need to survive. That's an order."_

 _He turned, seeing Führer-President Roy Mustang approaching him. He wore the same outfit as when they met in the bar, the only addition being a heavy trenchcoat. The man's onyx eyes bore into him. "Everything the hellion has said is true. All of it."_

" _We're in the middle of a war zone, Mustang," Edward retorted, noting the dark expression on Fullmetal's face. "How the hell do you expect me to wake up from this?"_

" _You need to find that out on your own," Mustang responded. "All three of us are along for the ride."_

 _Explosions ripped the quiet snowfall, sounds of the enemy's bombardment painfully clear. The three of them hid, Drachman scouts approaching their position moments later._

" _I could swear there were three Amestrians here—"_

" _Rubbish! You probably just saw the night sky."_

" _But I swear, Captain—"_

" _Shut up! Do you want to alert the enemy to our position?"_

" _No, sir."_

 _Fullmetal rolled his eyes. Edward quietly slapped a hand over the teenager's mouth to prevent him from saying anything that would blow their cover. Damn those Drachmans and their thick accents and loud voices. Damn Fullmetal for not seeing the bigger picture. Damn Edward himself for being caught up in this fucking war in the first place._

 _But was the war actually going on around them, or was this really inside his own head?_

 _The Drachman scouts passed by them without incident. Once certain that they were long gone, the Amestrians crawled out of their hiding place. Fullmetal, now able to speak, smirked. "That wasn't so hard."_

 _Mustang didn't look so sure. "On the contrary; I think it's just the beginning."_

 _Fullmetal looked at the two older men with wary eyes, the teenager's rough exterior shattering like ice. Edward knew that look; it was the one he had tried to hide so many times throughout his life._

 _He was scared._

 _Mustang bore his gaze directly into him. "Lieutenant Colonel, can you use the Force?"_

 _Edward looked at him like he was crazy. "Use it? I can't even control it!"_

 _Fullmetal rolled his eyes. "Don't you have anything else besides that goddamn mirror?"_

 _Edward pulled out his gun. "I still have the ability to shoot people."_

 _Fullmetal recoiled. "What happened to not wanting to kill?"_

 _Edward huffed. "I don't want to; what I am more interested in is staying alive."_

" _Can you two discuss this later?" Mustang asked impatiently. "We don't know how long we have before we're under attack."_

" _Try not to jinx us, Colonel Bastard," Fullmetal quipped. Edward swatted the teenager on the back of the head, a stern look on the adult's face. "He's the Führer now; show him some respect for once!"_

" _Yeah, yeah, whatever." Fullmetal looked up into the tree above them. "I'm gonna scout for the enemy."_

 _Edward nodded. "Try not to get caught."_

 _The young alchemist smirked, proceeding up the tree._

 _Mustang shook his head, putting a hand on Edward's shoulder. "It's kind of hard to believe you used to get on my nerves all the time, seeing how you turned out now."_

 _Edward shrugged. "Baschool had quite the effect on how I saw things."_

 _Mustang raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to continue._

" _My mistake with Kimblee taught me that mercy and recklessness were childish at times," Edward clarified._

" _Recklessness, yes. Mercy…not always," Mustang cautioned. "War might make one think like that, Lieutenant Colonel, but you shouldn't abandon your adolescent philosophy. Not completely, anyway." The Führer smiled. "It might just save your life."_

 _Edward raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to tell me something, Mustang?"_

 _The response he got was all the more cryptic. "You'll find out soon enough."_

 _Edward frowned, realising that something was vaguely amiss. "You're not actually Mustang, are you? You're just a figment of my imagination; both of you are."_

 _Mustang blinked, sympathy in his eyes. "Do you remember the vision with your brother by the fire?"_

 _Edward folded his arms. That had been the only thing he remembered, other than this battlefield. "It's the clearest part that I know of," he admitted. "Alphonse said that the Force operated in strange ways sometimes." He released his arms, meeting his superior's gaze directly. "I don't get it! The Alphonse I talked to was younger, before we got our bodies back. And now I'm seeing you, and a younger version of myself, and—" Edward looked down, suddenly uncertain of himself. "I don't know anymore."_

" _Whether you know or don't know doesn't really matter at the moment," Mustang chastised. "You have only one order here, Edward: Don't die."_

" _I'll do my best, sir."_

 _The two men stared at the snowfall in harrowing silence. Edward, meanwhile, was deep in thought. How could he use the Force? Telekinesis and other stuff that he had seen Alphonse and Ahsoka do…No matter how hard he tried, nothing would respond. The only thing that seemed to work was the Mirror, and even then, all he could do was dissociate as a response to his psychological hell. Without alchemy, his abilities were pretty much useless in a fight._

" _I can most definitely assure you, Fullmetal, your Force abilities are as far from useless as they can get," Mustang said, evidently noticing the source of his frustration._

" _Then what the hell do you expect me to do, dissociate the enemy to death?" Edward retorted, the frustration making itself far more obvious._

 _Mustang folded his arms. "I can tell you what I_ don't _expect you to do. I_ don't _expect you to cut yourself off from the Force."_

 _Edward raised a confused eyebrow in response._

 _Mustang sighed. "Here's the gist of it: Yes, your abilities have significantly been altered since you surrendered your Gate of Truth. No, they are not gone. Not as much as you think they are. Some of them are, in fact, much stronger than those of other Force-sensitives. It is up to you to figure out what those abilities are."_

" _Is that supposed to make me feel any better?"_

 _An angry retort courtesy of Fullmetal saved Mustang from having to respond. Apparently, it was something along the lines of "be quiet or else" with profanity laced into the mix. Mustang looked up into the tree, offering the young alchemist an exasperated "why" gesture. Edward followed Mustang's gaze, noticing Fullmetal perched catlike on a branch about six or seven metres above them. Just_ how _the teenager managed to get that high up so quickly…well, the Lieutenant Colonel had no idea._

 _"See anything?" Edward asked after a moment._

 _"Nope," Fullmetal responded. "That's what worries me."_

 _The Lieutenant Colonel sighed. "It really might be nothing, you know."_

 _The young alchemist snorted. "Last I checked, I never used to be so complacent. Especially not at a time like this."_

 _"Shut up, you two," Mustang snapped. "This is a war zone."_

 _"Is it?" Edward asked quietly, moving his gaze from Fullmetal's position in the tree to the snowy forest in front of him. There was a strange feeling, as though the battlefield was just a hazy fabrication. Amestris hadn't been at war with Drachma when he'd left…and he wasn't on a battlefield. He wasn't even on his home_ planet. _How could he be? They had left on the mission days ago. As far as he remembered, they hadn't turned around. "This isn't real."_

 _A sharp bark of laughter sounded from above. "Finally, he's lucid," Fullmetal snarked. The scenery changed in front of them in the blink of an eye. The forest was burning, bodies littered everywhere. Edward looked at Mustang in horror, hoping this was only a fever dream and nothing more. A squad of Drachman soldiers pointed their weapons at them, sneering._

 _"You're a long way from home, aren't you, Führer-President Mustang?" the one in the centre sneered, his English remarkably good._

 _"Good guess," Mustang retorted, snapping his fingers. The enemy soldier disintegrated in front of them, angering the other four in his squad. Edward pulled out his gun, pressing the trigger multiple times—_

 _Nothing. No shots fired. Edward looked down at his weapon, both angry and afraid._

 _"Your weapon will not save you, soldier," the soldier closest to him sneered, revelling in Edward's misfortune._

 _"No shit, Drachman bastard," Edward snapped. "How do you say, 'Captain Obvious' in Drachman?"_

 _"None of your business, Amestrian scum," the soldier retorted._

 _"Sassing the enemy isn't going to work, you know!" Mustang berated him._

 _"I can see that!" Edward snapped, noticing the enemy preparing to fire their weapons on them. He looked at Mustang, seeing a serene look on the man's face as he closed his eyes. A wall of flames encircled him, Mustang at peace in the smoke. Edward watched in disbelief as the man vanished, a raven emerging from the much heavier black smoke, divebombing the enemy._

 _"This has got to be a fever dream," he whispered, watching the enemy become spooked by the transfiguration and attack. One of the soldiers hit his head upon running into a tree as he tried to dodge the bird, crumpling mercilessly onto the ground._

 _"Idiot," another soldier muttered exasperatedly. "It is just mere illusion. Mustang is probably hiding somewhere."_

 _Another raven soared past Edward, landing in front of him. A column of flames and smoke erupted, revealing…_

 _…Fullmetal?_

 _Edward cocked his head to the left, eyes narrowing. Yes, it was him. Without hesitation, the teenager clapped his palms together and placed them in the snow, sending icy spears into the hearts of the remaining soldiers._

 _The adult raised an eyebrow. "I thought you decided not to kill for the military. What gives?"_

 _"War, dumbass," the teenager snapped. "This way."_

 _Edward followed him, checking his gun along the way. Everything had been fine, so why wouldn't the blasted thing fire? As for these versions of Fullmetal and Mustang…what were they?_

 _"You should really consider quieting your thoughts," Fullmetal quipped. "You're aware that you are dreaming, so why the hell haven't you woken up yet?"_

 _"How does that relate to quieting my thoughts, exactly?"_

 _Fullmetal rolled his eyes. "Just answer the question."_

 _Edward frowned. The ravens, the fires, the war zone…none of it was making sense. "Why am I trapped here, in this fever dream?" he mused. "No," he then decided. "This nightmare. I've already died three times on this battlefield; only one of them made me wake up. I don't suppose a fourth time is going to make any difference." They kept walking. The two Elrics passed through the burning forest, dead humans and trees littering the path. It was almost as though there was a reason for the mass casualties. The morbidity of the realisation made him stop in his tracks. Fullmetal turned, raising an eyebrow. "You're starting to understand, aren't you?"_

 _Edward closed his eyes, the palm of his right hand making contact with a charred tree next to him. His thoughts quieted, the flow of energy from one neurone to the next singing its song to him. It seemed almost…sad, somehow, as though it was deprived of an intimate connection to the flow of the universe._

 _"The Force," he whispered in realisation. The former alchemist sighed. "I can't use it; my Gate is gone." He was about ready to accept this realisation when he heard the faint start of a tune in his soul, a song he had not heard in eighteen years. He lost himself in the flow of the tune, knowing exactly what it was, not willing to lose it again._

 _The song was there, softer, but it sounded far sadder, far lonelier than he had remembered. That very realisation reduced him to what must have been tears, for water droplets made their slow way down his cold cheeks. His inner mental self followed the flow deeper and deeper, the song still sounding in a pianissimo. He looked down, seeing a raven with a broken wing, unable to fly. It looked expectantly at him, as if to say, "Welcome back."_

 _"Ashla," he whispered, the word flying off of his tongue, though he did not know where it came from or what it meant. He picked up the injured raven, cradling the bird near his heart to shelter it from the harsh Drachman winter. A feeling of reunion surged within him, the song sounding softer than it normally did, but had increased in a slight crescendo, the feeling of oneness_ _resonating throughout his soul._

 _Edward opened his eyes, hand still pressed against the tree. He noticed Fullmetal looking at him with that same feeling, the teenager looking in the best mood he had been in this dream. "Thank you," he whispered, transfiguring again into the raven and flying off into the night sky._

 _The Lieutenant Colonel soon continued deeper into the fiery woods, perplexed about the ravens. In Amestris, they were regarded as birds of prophecy, but only by those crazy enough to believe the old myths. The wider population of Amestris viewed them as "death birds", but there were a few who considered them to be lucky. Edward wasn't sure where he fit in perspective-wise. He shrugged, figuring it best to focus more on finding a way out of the war zone for the moment._

 _Edward didn't know how long it was since he had started walking again, but he could find no way out of there. It was only during this brief moment of panic that he noticed the outline of a feminine figure holding something gently in her hands. The Lieutenant Colonel walked closer, noticing that the woman was in her mid-twenties, and the object in her hands was a baby raven with a broken wing. Her brown hair was pulled to the side, green eyes burning with a maternal fire. Edward's eyes widened, multiple emotions roiling within his being._

 _"Mother," he breathed._

 _Trisha Elric perked her head up at the sound of his voice, eyes softening as she recognised him. Edward ran to her, throwing all caution to the wind, arriving at her side without incident. He knelt down on the snow in front of her, hoping this wasn't just another nightmare._

 _"Are…" Edward swallowed before continuing. "Are you real?"_

 _Trisha smiled sadly, freeing a hand to place on his cheek. "Ed," she whispered, "I am as real as you make me out to be."_

 _"No, that's not what I meant," Edward muttered, closing his eyes. "Is…is it really you?"_

 _A brief pause, then-_

 _"It is."_

 _Edward's eyes opened wide, staring again in disbelief. "How…how are you here?" Another thought chose to voice itself. "Am I dead?"_

 _Trisha dropped her hand. Edward sighed, looking down at the snow. That had to be the most logical explanation._

 _"Ed. Sweetheart, look at me."_

 _The Lieutenant Colonel obeyed. Trisha's expression was gentle, but it had a motherly sternness that was far too personal to be just a mirage. "You're alive. As for me…I just wanted to see my sons again. I saw Al through the cosmos, but I couldn't see you. You saved him and weakened your connection to the cosmic Force. Your connection to the living Force, however, got far stronger. It is only in this fever state and in your awareness of its existence that you were able to reunite the two."_

" _But I can't use alchemy."_

 _His mother put a hand on his shoulder. "Weren't you listening to Ahsoka earlier? You don't need a Gate of Truth to access the Force. It just emboldens your connection to it." She smiled encouragingly. "Alchemy is merely one part of the Force, Ed. Losing your ability to use it does not mean you can no longer use the entirety of the Force. It is strong in you…both you and Alphonse. Very strong." Her smile faded. "That is exactly why you need to keep your brother from falling to the dark side for as long as possible."_

" _There's not a lot I can do, Mom," Edward pointed out._

" _Remember that promise you made him?" Edward nodded. "Keep it. No matter what, that is the one promise you absolutely have to keep."_

 _Edward nodded. "I will. I promise you."_

 _Trisha returned the baby bird to the ground, its wing in a splint. The tiny raven reunited with its mother, and they flew into the sky._

" _It's amazing how life can turn out sometimes," Trisha commented, melancholy in her voice._

 _Edward looked away. "We made a mistake." She had to know about the transmutation._

" _One that led to you two saving the world," Trisha pointed out. Edward returned his gaze to her, stunned that she already knew. "I know you two missed me, but while I'm angry at you for what you did, and also for both of you getting hurt because of it, I'm glad that you two had the maturity to realise the error of your ways in the end."_

 _Edward bowed his head in shame. "I'm sorry. We both are."_

 _He half-expected Trisha to berate him further. What he didn't expect was for her to throw her arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace. No words were exchanged; the scene was simply just a mother holding her soldier son on the battlefield._

" _We miss you," Ed said quietly. His next words surprised him. "Dad, too."_

" _I know you do," Trisha said simply. "And we're at peace, Ed. You have nothing to worry about from us."_

 _Edward nodded, disentangling himself from his mother's grip. A wistful grin made itself known on his face. "You might not believe it, but you have grandchildren now," he told her. "And Al's got a girlfriend—a Princess of Xing."_

" _How long have they been together?"_

" _A long time," Edward responded._

 _Trisha raised an eyebrow. "As for the way you mentioned those kids…" She looked up at him, surprised. "I presume_ you're _the father?"_

" _Yep." Edward smiled, thinking about them. "Their names are Quinlan and Katrina."_

" _Troublemakers?" Trisha teased, a playful smile on her face._

" _For the most part." Edward sighed. "I'm going to have two teenagers soon; Katrina turns thirteen on New Year's Eve."_

" _How old is Quinlan?"_

" _He'll be fifteen in November."_

 _Trisha smirked. "I wonder which one takes after you."_

 _Edward rolled his eyes playfully. "Very funny, Mom."_

 _Trisha's face was one of mock hurt. "Am I not allowed to mess with my son every once in a while?"_

 _Edward acquiesced. It had been nearly three decades since he'd last had the opportunity to experience this with her. "Oh, very well."_

" _Lieutenant Colonel!"_

 _Edward turned abruptly, seeing a wounded Amestrian soldier crawling to his position. Trisha ran to him, attempting to carry him with his injury._

 _Without warning, the enemy advanced._

 _Edward gritted his teeth. "I am_ not _losing her again." Almost on instinct he extended a hand, causing the bullets to stop in mid-air, barely half a metre from his mother's head. He didn't question_ how _he managed to do it, so long as his mother and the soldier were okay. Edward looked up, eyes wide with terror. "Mom! Go!"_

 _Trisha nodded, running back to her eldest child with the wounded man in tow. Edward let the bullets drop, the rounds landing harmlessly in the snow. Edward grabbed his gun, praying the weapon would fire this time. He turned to his mother. "Are you hurt?"_

 _Trisha shook her head. Edward turned to the enemy soldiers, standing protectively over the others now under his care. He pointed his weapon, preparing to fire._

" _None of us made it," the wounded soldier gasped._

" _Save your breath, soldier," Edward snapped. "You need your strength."_

 _The enemy opened fire on them. Edward responded in kind, the weapon fortunately responding this time. He was able to down three of the soldiers before running out of ammo, after which he threw the gun straight at the nearest Drachman's head, hitting the bastard square between the eyes. The enemy soldier went down, not coming back up again. Edward extended his arms, praying for a miracle as he shielded his mother and his fellow soldier. The bullets in front of him again froze in mid-air, but he sensed the enemy approaching from all sides._

 _They were completely surrounded._

" _The Force," he breathed. "What the hell is it?" He looked up, blanching at the enemy's relentlessness. He let the bullets drop, slowly raising his hands._

" _Lieutenant Colonel, what are you doing?!" the wounded soldier asked in dismay, though Edward grimly noted that his voice was far weaker than it was before._

 _Edward glanced at the soldier—a Lance Corporal, he now saw from the insignia on the man's uniform—and his mother, knowing that what he was about to do was not something Trisha Elric would approve of._

" _Something crazy," was his ultimate response._

 _Edward turned away before either of them could respond. He clapped his hands together in front of him, exactly like how he used to do his alchemy, getting his bearings on what he was about to do._

" _I vaguely remember asking what the Force was apart from a universal energy field," he began. Part of him wondered why he was voicing this aloud, but there was no time to question it. "Energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Even though alchemy is just one part of the Force, it does not make up the entirety of it."_

" _What is your point, Fullmetal Alchemist?" the enemy soldier closest to him snapped, clearly getting impatient._

" _Shut up and let me finish," Edward retorted. He sighed. "If I think of the Force simply as energy, then that's a good reason why I am no longer able to use alchemy and transmute, yet I can still be a conduit for the flow of energy in the universe. No manipulation; just paying attention to the cosmic river."_

 _The Drachman soldier's eyes widened, evidently understanding what Edward said perfectly. "Open fire!" he screamed. "Fire everything!"_

" _Everything?" the soldier next to him echoed in confusion._

" _Yes, everything!"_

" _EDWARD!"_

 _Gritting his teeth, Edward shut out his mother's panicked scream and un-clapped his hands, shielding them with what he now realised was the Force just as the Drachmans opened fire._

" _What the fuck—" the Lance Corporal spluttered._

" _Watch your language," Trisha rebuked._

 _Edward couldn't afford to respond to the exchange going on near him; it was already taxing just holding the bullets back. If he let go, his mom would—_

 _No. She wouldn't. Trisha Elric was already a ghost._

 _Here, that's what they all were._

 _Just phantoms._

 _Trisha wouldn't die again; he knew that much for certain. The Lance Corporal's condition, let alone his existence, was questionable. As for himself…_

 _Edward grunted in pain as a bullet hit him from behind, but he forced himself to keep the shield steady. Soon that bullet turned into two, then three, then another, and another, and another, and another, and—_

 _Edward bellowed in pain, sending the bullets ricocheting into every Drachman soldier's vital organs as he had no choice but to drop the shield. He looked at Trisha, at the shocked Lance Corporal, relieved that the fighting was over._

 _Then he went down._

 _Edward felt Trisha catch him just before he hit the snow, her concerned face swimming in and out of clarity. He felt her warm hand on his increasingly cool cheek, and, for the first time since he became lucid, became terrified at what was happening._

 _Once again, he was dying in a dream, but this time he was awake._

" _Edward," Trisha said gently. "Sweetheart, you have to hold on. Three months. Three months, okay?"_

 _Three months…_

 _Edward's eyes slid shut of their own accord. When he opened them, he saw that he was no longer on the battlefield. Instead, he saw the vastness of space above him, stars twinkling in the inky blackness. The Lieutenant Colonel sat up, eyes widening in surprise and confusion as he saw pathways of starlight, leading to portals, voices he recognised and didn't recognise echoing softly around him. The whole area was just like that above him…except it wasn't. He didn't know what it was._

" _Am I dead?" he whispered._

 _No response._

 _Edward stood, noting that he was no longer in pain, and a quick glance at his military uniform told him that he was no longer riddled with bullets, either. He walked forward, noticing starlight rippling under his feet like how one walked in a puddle. It was strangely comforting, yet surreal, confusing and terrifying all at the same time. The Lieutenant Colonel could not be certain about how long he had been walking for, but he paused upon noticing something…odd in front of him. A hooded figure around the same height as himself had its back to him, facing some sort of portal made of starlight. A raven was perched on its shoulder, eyeing him curiously._

" _Who are you?" Edward asked._

 _The former alchemist blinked._

* * *

Edward opened his eyes, noticing the ceiling of a room above him. He felt too hot, but at the same time too cold. He moved his head, the outline of someone sitting nearby slowly coming into focus. The tell-tale non-human tresses on the woman's head revealed her to be Ahsoka, who looked to be in the middle of some sort of nightmare.

He was also aware of a small weight on his chest.

Edward moved his head again, only to recoil into the pillows upon seeing Xiao Mei. The tiny panda's rear was right in front of him as she slept on top of his chest.

"Come on, Xiao Mei, do you _have_ to show me _that_ end?" Edward asked exasperatedly, voice raw. "Seriously?"

The panda didn't move. Edward groaned, turning his head to the side in order to have some solace from that sight _. She's like a cat, I swear,_ he thought.

Still, the sight of Ahsoka going through who knew how many nightmares wasn't any better. Edward reached out a hand, and although he didn't have the strength to reach her shoulder he was able to grasp the lower part of her right arm.

"Ahsoka," he whispered, worried. "Ahsoka…"

* * *

" _What are these things?" Ezra asked, pointing to the tomes near and directly in front of them._

" _This writing…it's in the old tongue," Ahsoka noted, examining the object closer._

" _Can you read it?" Kanan asked._

 _Ahsoka glanced at him warily. As much as she didn't want to, they had to know what secrets Malachor held. "I can try. It's a very old form. I can only make out a few words." She walked over to the tome. The dark energy roiled off it like steam from a boiling pot of water._

You just _had_ to go and read up on the Sith Languages, didn't you? _she thought self-deprecatingly. She began to read the tome's story, the words rolling off her tongue like a morbidly lilting song, unaware of Ezra's entranced approach until it was too late._

" _No, Ezra! Don't—" Before she could finish, the Padawan touched the tome. Ezra recoiled backwards, panic written all over his face as he looked back toward the adults. The ground cracked beneath them seconds later, hurtling all three Force-users into a dark abyss._

 _Ahsoka landed on the ground, darkness all around her. She grabbed one of her lightsabres, using the blade's light to see what was around her._

" _Kanan?" she called out, walking forward. "Ezra?"_

 _No response. She kept moving, Several metres later, she encountered a figure in a hood. At first, she thought it was Obi-Wan, but this man was decades younger and had gold eyes instead of blue. He removed the hood, revealing a bearded Alphonse Elric. The alchemist's eyes glittered with pure darkness._

" _You should have trusted me, Ahsoka!" the alchemist chastised, a hurt look within those maniacal eyes. "Just like with Anakin, and all of those Jedi you abandoned, you left us to a fate worse than death! And it's all your fault!"_

" _No!" Ahsoka denied. "You and Anakin brought this on yourselves!"_

" _Did we?"_

 _Ahsoka turned to the other voice, seeing Darth Vader. "It was unwise for you to abandon me twice, Ahsoka. Now, we will make certain that you die—permanently." Vader ignited his lightsabre, and Alphonse clapped his hands. The rock transformed into tendrils, and the Sith Lord used the Force to direct them her way. Ahsoka fled, both dark-side wielders on her tail. The Togruta jumped across a nearby chasm. Vader didn't follow, but Alphonse leapt across with ease. He landed in front of her, blasting her with Sith Lightning. Ahsoka fell to her knees, unprepared for the attack. The dark alchemist let up, and she coughed, trying to catch her breath._

" _Alphonse," she rasped. "Please, don't do this."_

 _Alphonse ignored her, clapping his hands once again. Ahsoka used the Force, throwing him over the chasm before he could transmute. Tears streamed down her face as she lamented the loss of yet another friend._

" _I'm sorry, Al," she whispered. "You were right. I didn't trust you, and now this happened. This is all my fault."_

" _Damn right it's your fault!" a voice snapped, many-yet-one. Ahsoka looked up, seeing Truth. The entity looked pissed. "Thanks to that little transmutation you oh-so-unknowingly completed, you wound up peeking at stuff you never should have seen! Doesn't it ever occur to you that maybe,_ just _maybe, I_ don't like _people screwing around with the cosmos?"_

" _It wasn't intentional!" Ahsoka protested._

" _Like I care!" Truth snarled. "Equivalent Exchange is still Equivalent Exchange! It's not like life gives a shit about excuses! So do me a favour, Ahsoka Tano: Get off your ass and quit sulking. You fucked up. So what? Is the universe supposed to be sitting around and feeling sorry for itself every time a Death Star is built? Seeing as I am the universe, I can tell you that, no, I don't go around bitching about some screw-up." The entity stood, walking coldly away from her until she vanished into the distance. Ahsoka heard snarling behind her. She turned, eyes widening in terror as she saw the creature from the circle, grotesque enough to give anybody nightmares just by looking at it. It lunged. Ahsoka shielded herself with her arms, but that did nothing against the creature's mauling—_

Ahsoka gasped, cold sweat beading down her back. She held her head in her left hand, groaning as she realised where she was. _I must've dosed off while keeping watch._ It was then that she became aware of something gripping her other wrist. She turned, seeing Edward, awake but tired. She stood, gently making her way over to the bed as he let go of her wrist. She sat next to Edward, concern in her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

The former alchemist snorted softly. "Not good, that's for sure." He frowned. "Can you get Xiao Mei off of me? I don't exactly want to be staring at panda butt for the next several minutes."

Ahsoka snickered, tickled by the mental image drawn up in her mind as it took her focus away from the nightmare. _Just like a Loth-cat, isn't she?_ The Togruta acquiesced, picking up Xiao Mei and placing the panda on her lap. The little creature looked up at her in protest.

"Come on, Xiao Mei. Edward needs some time to recover without you sitting near his face," she scolded the panda gently. "I've got you right here."

Xiao Mei didn't retaliate, though she instead moved to curl up in Ahsoka's lap as a consolation prize for her sleep being disturbed. The Togruta blinked. _Looks like I'll be here for a while._ She turned her gaze back to Edward, who, in the midst of his exhaustion, looked immensely relieved. "Was it really that bad?" she asked.

"It was certainly a rude awakening," Edward retorted. "How long was I out?"

Ahsoka shrugged. "If I had to guess for the second time you passed out, I'd say the better part of twenty-four hours."

"There was a _first_ time?"

Ahsoka nodded. "Yeah. You were out cold for well over ten hours, and apparently you had a bad seizure halfway in."

Edward pressed his head back into the pillow. "Wonderful."

"Just be glad you survived the night," Ahsoka said sternly, noting the former alchemist's sarcasm. "Your fever was that close to being lethal. Speaking of," she added, putting a hand on his still-too-warm forehead, "you're not out of the woods yet, mister."

Edward groaned, but Ahsoka's stern glare silenced him for the time being. She sterilised the thermometer and checked his temperature again.

 _Beep._

Ahsoka removed the device, reading the gauge.

"Well?" Edward asked.

"Thirty-eight Celsius," she prognosed. "You'll live."

The former alchemist sported a weak smile on his face. "Yes," he exhaled, holding up both hands in respective single-fingered salutes.

Ahsoka pulled a face as he put his hands down, releasing the rude gestures. "And clearly you're still out of it."

Edward rolled his eyes. "I'm awake, aren't I?"

Ahsoka snorted. "Awake, yes. Able to think rationally, questionable."

"Bullshit."

The Togruta shrugged. "Have it your way." She folded her arms, changing the subject. She had to know what was going on. Between Alphonse's strange possession of a Sith holocron and Edward's strange Force anomaly, there were too many things left unexplained. "There's no way the alcohol would have induced that kind of fever, or that kind of shock for that matter, from what Mei was telling me, so what the hell happened?"

Edward frowned, contemplating something. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said at last.

Ahsoka unfolded her arms, stroking a sleeping Xiao Mei with a free hand. "Then tell me. I might just prove you wrong."

Edward gave her a fulminating stare for a brief moment before sighing in acquiescence. "Fine. But I need to drink some water first."

Ahsoka nodded, using the Force to pull a nearby water bottle towards her. She grasped it, handing the container to Edward. "Here; it's full."

"Thanks." Edward sat up gingerly, grasping the beverage. He drank the water gratefully, downing about twenty millilitres or so before handing the bottle back to her.

Ahsoka took the container, looking curiously at him. "Okay, Edward. Spill."

The former alchemist nodded, weariness in his face. "It turns out that destroying my Gate of Truth had some…side effects. There was a second toll, albeit an inexplicit one. In exchange for giving up my connection to Truth, he gave up something as well: some of his own power. Why, I'm not sure. But lately I've started dissociating, and it's getting worse and worse. I tried controlling it, but that didn't work out so well. That's how I ended up in this mess."

Ahsoka gestured for him to continue.

Edward leaned back into the pillow. "I don't know how long ago this was, but I started to become lucid in the middle of a fever dream. There were these ravens, and they—"

Ahsoka held up a hand to silence him. "Ravens?" she asked, frowning. "I didn't think there were any outside of Dathomir."

Edward shrugged. "There are quite a few on my home world. In Amestris, they're regarded as a bad omen. Anyway, one of them gave me this strange sort of message: 'Three months. Mother War approaches. Death is all around. The demons of the forest kill.' I have no clue what that means, but the fever dream I remember being in was a war zone. I was fighting against Drachma, one of Amestris's enemies. Then…Then, I saw my mother." He winced. "It was really her. She said something about the Force, about the cosmos, and…" He looked to be fighting back tears. "I miss her so, so much." Ahsoka let him regain his composure before continuing. "In that dream, I died shielding her and a fellow soldier from a squad of Drachman soldiers that had ambushed us. I had used the Force, or, at least I think I did. The next thing I knew, I was in this strange sort of…" He held up his hands in a placating gesture, apparently searching for some way to describe the experience. "It was space, and I was on some sort of pathway lined with starlight. There were voices, some I recognised, some I didn't." Edward looked down. "I walked forward, and then I saw someone in front of this…portal, with a raven. I couldn't see this guy's face, and then I woke up."

Ahsoka sensed that Edward wasn't telling her everything, but she let it slide given his condition. But that last part…that surprised her.

The alchemist noticed her reaction, turning his head towards her. "You…you know what that space place is?"

Ahsoka nodded, memories surfacing. "The common name for it is the World Between Worlds," she said quietly. "It's an area outside of space and time, encompassing the flow of the universe. Truth also has control over that area, but I don't think it's as extensive as her control of the Gate. In both places, you are neither dead nor alive. You just…exist. I don't know exactly what it is; maybe it's another celestial plane, maybe it's this quantum physics phenomenon that no one really understands. I don't know how else to explain it."

"You've been there?"

"Yeah." Memories of her near-death experience on Malachor made her skin crawl. "There are some worlds that have portals there, though they are heavily guarded. Worlds such as Malachor and Lothal, for instance. How you managed to enter it simply by dreaming…quite frankly, I have no idea."

"That makes two of us." Edward changed the subject. "I noticed you were in the middle of a nightmare earlier."

Ahsoka grimaced. "Yeah."

Awkward silence lasted for a moment or so. "Do you want to talk about it?" asked the former alchemist.

"Not especially."

Edward nodded, laying back into the pillow. Ahsoka contemplated telling him about the strange nightmare for a moment, but decided against it, figuring it best to wait until he was in somewhat better shape.

"Where's Al?"

Ahsoka looked around, seeing that Alphonse was not in the room. "Good question." She shrugged. "I'll let him know you're awake."

Edward's eyes widened as he realised that she was leaving. "Take Xiao Mei with you." _Please,_ his expression added silently.

Ahsoka gently picked the panda up from her lap, nodding. "We'll check on you later."

"Whatever."

Ahsoka held the sleeping animal to her chest, walking out of the room. She entered the pilot's area, promptly sitting in her preferred seat.

"Spectre Five," Ahsoka said, activating a comm channel, "Is Alphonse with you?"

" _He is,"_ Sabine confirmed.

Ahsoka leaned back into the seat. "Please tell him that his brother is awake."

Sabine relayed the message, and Ahsoka heard the alchemist's expressed relief. The Togruta ended the transmission, looking out at the forest that had caused her so much hurt in the first place, and was again reminded of the nightmare that was Alphonse Elric's likely inevitable fall.

* * *

A/N: Some more tidbits...

I. 41.2 ºC = 106.16 ºF (High/Dangerous fever)

II. 39 ºC = 102.20 ºF (Moderate fever)

III. 38 ºC = 100.40 ºF (Low-grade fever)

IV. "Quantum Physics Phenomenon or Celestial Plane": I kept thinking about the Schrödinger's Cat thought experiment whenever I thought about what the World Between Worlds could potentially be. Given that it is an area outside of space and time, are people inside this domain dead, alive, or simply just existing? We don't know (and I don't think Dave Filoni has provided many hints). It could also be just another part of the Force. Any thoughts on this?


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

A/N: Hello, guys! I know it's been a while since I've updated, but things have gotten busy between university classes and recovering from a mild concussion. Future updates may be more sporadic as the semester goes on. Things are going well, though, so I'll make time for writing more on this fic when I have the chance. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

-sousatayue-

* * *

" _Additional reinforcements from West have arrived,"_ Olivier Mira Armstrong informed him. _"I'm surprised you got them to send anyone."_

Mustang sighed, wishing he could forget about the insanity that had been the court martial of Elisabeth Page. "A court martial and a rather… _persuasive_ conversation with Lieutenant General Browning did the trick."

" _Ah, yes,"_ Olivier groaned. _"Major Fuery was kind enough to inform me about the situation with Page when I tried to contact you earlier."_ She paused for a second to let that sink in. _"How did it go?"_

Mustang glanced at the as-of-yet unopened bottle of scotch on his desk. "Let's just say that I'm glad it's over."

" _And Page?"_

"Discharged, stripped of her military rank, and placed under house arrest for the duration of the war," Mustang responded. "I'm having people keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't do anything else running on the borderline of stupid."

" _Actions such as that could have jeopardised the war effort early on,"_ Olivier warned, making her displeasure clear over the telephone. _"I'm surprised you weren't any harsher on her."_

"Believe me, if she does anything, I'll have her executed on the spot," Mustang promised grimly.

Olivier let out a mirthless snort. _"Wouldn't that be viewed as excessive, Führer Mustang?"_

"Possibly," Mustang admitted. "But she is a threat to national security, and I am not taking any chances."

Olivier mulled this over for a few seconds. _"Is she under constant surveillance?"_

"She is."

" _Well, that's something at least."_

Mustang nodded, muttering his agreement. As with Hawkeye, his interpersonal dynamic with Olivier was not that typical, but this was because he both feared and respected the woman at the same time. Even though he was the Führer and had the executive decision over what happened in Amestris, if it involved Briggs, he thought it wiser to collaborate with the Ice Queen on those matters, especially since she was the most senior member of the High Command.

This war qualified.

Speaking of…

"How goes the war, General?" he asked, hoping for a distraction from the Page situation…even if it was a morbid one.

" _Six dead, eight wounded, but the enemy has not been successful in making any headway towards Briggs,"_ she reported _. "Colonel Martin and I are going to be conducting a training exercise at oh six hundred hours tomorrow morning so the greener soldiers don't shit themselves when they have a Drachman howitzer flying at their heads."_

Mustang snorted. "I think even the higher-ups would have some underwear to change if they came across that scenario, General."

" _Shut up, Mustang."_ The General sighed, changing the subject _. "It's a miracle you haven't started kissing up to the politicians yet."_

Mustang shuddered. "No matter what side of the spectrum they are on, _I'm_ the one that they have to answer to, not the other way around."

" _It's good to see that you have finally found a backbone within all those flames."_

Mustang reached for the alcohol. "I took some frozen leaves out of your book, General."

Olivier let out a bark of laughter. _"Is that so, Führer?"_ She cleared her throat. _"Your compliment has been noted."_

"You're impressed."

" _Don't push your luck, Mustang,"_ Olivier retorted. _"On another matter: I heard Edward Elric is once again a dog of the military."_

"More like a wolf," Mustang confirmed. "He's a fully-fledged Lieutenant Colonel now."

" _I see. Have you notified him of the war?"_

Mustang frowned. "Not yet. Even though I have made him aware that such a conflict had been inevitable, he has not received any updates since. As for the matter of communications, I've been unable to get a hold of him. I'd sent him on a mission almost a week ago, and where he went we have no means of establishing radio contact."

" _It's not like he disappeared off the face of the planet."_

"I'm afraid that's almost exactly what happened, General," he told her.

The General paused briefly. _"…You're joking, right?"_

"What do you think?" Mustang snapped.

Olivier groaned, clearly realising he was completely serious. _"Out of all of the things you could have fucked up, this has to be the craziest."_ She took a deep breath. _"Did you at least have the sense to send anyone with him?"_

"As a matter of fact, I did," Mustang responded curtly. "His brother, a Xingese Princess, and two aliens are accompanying him to some forest planet in Wild Space."

The Ice Queen snorted. _"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were drunk. But…aliens? They're real?"_

"From what my sources have told me, yes," Mustang confirmed. "You'll be surprised to know that quite a few of them are as human as you and me."

" _And I take it you had to have known about this for a while before you talked with Elric,"_ Olivier presumed. _"Who told you in the first place?"_

"Some guy who wanted to stay anonymous," Mustang muttered. "Even though it was a while before I believed him, I had to take it seriously because some of the information that he had in his possession insinuated serious violations of alchemical law and has allegedly taken several innocent lives thus far on multiple worlds."

" _Violations such as…?"_ Olivier enquired.

"Inter-Species Sentient Transmutation…including Human Transmutation."

Mustang had to hold the receiver away from his ear as the General made her displeasure quite clear on the other end of the line. _"So you kept it under wraps even from Grumman?"_

"I didn't have much choice on that one," Mustang retorted, putting the receiver back up against his ear. "Alchemy isn't his area of expertise, and besides, he was in the middle of trying to change the world's perception of Amestris."

" _So you investigated this matter personally?"_

"More like researched it," Mustang admitted, relieved that the General wasn't shouting at him again. "The source gave me some things to go on, but it wasn't until last year that I was able to understand how infinitesimally small this planet is compared to the rest of the galaxy."

" _Last year?"_ Olivier echoed _. "With all due respect, Führer, how long has it been since your source gave you this information?"_

"Three years."

" _I see,"_ Olivier said, after a brief pause. _"Apart from myself and Lieutenant Colonel Elric, who else has been privy to this information?"_

"Just Brigadier General Hawkeye and Major Fuery. This matter is on a need-to-know basis, General, just so you are clear on that."

" _Affirmative."_ Olivier sighed. _"Permission to speak freely?"_

"Considering we've been doing that for the past ten minutes you're the last person that should be required to ask permission, General."

" _Then_ make it _a requirement,"_ Olivier snapped. _"I'm not normally one to give_ you _of all people advice on how to do your job, Führer Mustang, but for future reference, please, for the love of all that is holy,_ please _adhere to protocol. This is_ not _like how you ran things back when you were just a dog of the military. You are the person the whole of Amestris will be looking up to for support, leadership, et cetera. I understand you are relatively new to this position, and I get that you are still adjusting, but for crying out loud, take it seriously. You are the one who will be enforcing the protocol, so it really looks bad for you if you yourself go around flouting it the way Lieutenant Colonel Elric used to do when he was a teenager. Do I make myself clear, sir?"_

Mustang gulped. "Yes, ma'am."

" _Good."_ Olivier relented, evidently satisfied. _"I'll keep you posted on the conflict."_

Mustang nodded, hanging up. He looked at the booze almost longingly, wanting to take his mind off of Page's tribunal, but the words conveyed by the Northern Wall of Briggs stopped him from opening the contents. He put the bottle down, choosing instead to walk out of his office and head down to the cafeteria. On the way over, he ran into Hawkeye.

"Hello," he said, clearing his throat. He'd noticed that some of the terror was still in his voice.

Hawkeye raised an eyebrow. "Hello, sir. You look like you saw a ghost just now."

Mustang sighed, knowing the pieces that started to click in his mind. "You put Olivier up to this, didn't you?"

Hawkeye paused, making sure they were alone. She glanced back at him as soon as the coast was clear. "With all due respect, Mustang, I had to do _some_ thing. You can't be so laid-back anymore now that you're Führer. Besides," she added, her annoyance now prominent, "we're at all-out war with Drachma. This hasn't happened in who knows how long. I know you've only been on the job for five weeks, but come _on,_ Mustang, these people are counting on you."

Mustang gritted his teeth. "I do _not_ want another repeat of Ishval."

"Neither do a lot of people," Hawkeye retorted. "I get that you're not Grumman, and you're sure as hell not Bradley. So, what kind of leader do you want to be for Amestris? How do you want the people and the military to see you, especially at a time like this? Bradley was a warmonger. Grumman was a peacemaker. So, tell me, Roy Mustang: what kind of approach do you want to take to ensure this country's future?"

Mustang replied without hesitation. "I want to make this nation a better place for everyone, regardless of class or race. I want this country to be free of corruption."

"It's a utopian fantasy, and you know it," Hawkeye rebuked him. "Even if it isn't, how do you think you will even hope to accomplish that?"

Mustang wouldn't meet her eyes—because she was right. She was right, and Olivier was right as well, as much as the icy woman loathed him.

Hawkeye sighed. "Look," she said finally. "I'm not telling you that you shouldn't try to help people. What I am telling you is that you need to look at this realistically. Everything about this position…it's military, power, and politics. It's a balancing act. So try not to incinerate everything we have worked so hard for now that you've made it to the top." Hawkeye turned on her heel and left, leaving Mustang alone to consider this. Even as he made his way to the cafeteria and consumed his lunch, their words would not leave his mind.

So that begged the question: How could he carve out his own path for Amestris in the midst of a particularly dangerous war?

* * *

Cold winds battered the side of the wall. Icicles with lethally sharp ends protruded from the metres-high ceiling of the walkway. Soldiers armed with scythes worked tirelessly to knock them down in the sub-zero temperatures, making sure that the sentries that walked these floors had the luxury to live another day.

 _Stay sharp, or you're dead._ Such was decreed under the unwritten law of Briggs. This reflected the nature of the harsh environment and of the monolith's stark determination. One needed to have his wits about him in order to stay alive.

Wits, its leader reflected, and one hell of a backbone.

General Olivier Mira Armstrong made her way to the training area, crossing the parapets with ease. Some of her long hair flew in front of her face, a combination of silver, light blonde, and white, but she didn't let that bother her at all. It wasn't until she got into the lift that she moved it out of the way. The General pressed the button for the training grounds, and the lift soon responded to her commands, taking her deep into the fort.

Olivier got off at the desired floor without any stops, making her way toward the outdoor grounds. She noticed a younger woman with curly black hair already in the coach's box, standing at attention. The General recognised her rank, nodding in satisfaction that her fellow officer was definitely punctual.

"At ease, Colonel," she barked.

The woman relaxed, turning to face the General. Colonel Nikita Martin smiled, offering a brief salute. "Good morning, General!"

Olivier raised an eyebrow, noting the overall excitement in the Colonel's voice. "Just _how much_ caffeine have you had in the past few hours, Colonel?"

"None, ma'am. I don't drink coffee."

Olivier sighed. "Morning person?"

"Aye, ma'am," Martin confirmed. "I've been up since four." Her green eyes sparkled with delight. "I don't know what Mustang was thinking, sending the shinies up here, but it'll be fun to whack some sense into them."

Olivier grinned ferally. "I don't care, so long as they show discipline and kick some Drachman ass."

Martin nodded. "Yes, ma'am." She folded her arms. "Brigadier General Tammin was telling me that, if they are good enough, he wants you to potentially consider trying a few of the greener soldiers out on the commando squad."

"Delta Squad?" Oliver asked, surprised. "What makes him think they'll be able to advance that far?"

Martin shrugged. "No clue, ma'am. But it's a war, so he wanted me to run it by you first."

Olivier nodded, confirming the sentiment. "We'll see." But she highly doubted it would happen. She turned to the Colonel. "Do you have the time?"

Martin removed an ancient-looking bronze pocket watch from her jacket pocket. "Five thirty-six."

The General nodded. "Not too much longer, then." She glanced at her comrade. "How many will be participating in this exercise?"

The Colonel paused for a moment to think. "I'm guessing, but…twenty, maybe? Tammin wanted to rotate the groups throughout the week, since there are about sixty or seventy shinies total, plus a few higher-ranking transfers. Most of them are from West."

Olivier snorted. "At least they don't have to deal with Page anymore."

"They're actually quite glad about that," Martin pointed out.

"And those from North?"

"Ready and waiting to kick ass, General," Martin affirmed. She pulled a face. "Although, quite frankly, I think they'll only end up beating the crap out of each other for the time being. All of that pent-up energy has to go somewhere."

"Isn't that the point of the exercise?" Olivier queried.

"I meant outside of the training area."

The General frowned. "We'll see once we cross that bridge." _If_ they crossed that bridge.

Martin nodded. The younger woman turned back toward the arena. "This isn't your first war, is it, General?"

"No," Olivier confirmed. She had seen quite a few conflicts throughout her lifetime. "Every time the Drachmans have made an attempt to attack, we've annihilated them."

"This is different, though," Martin argued. "We're in all-out war against them, and our people are the ones who are dying this time."

"At least they've taken some of the Drachmans down with them," Olivier noted, recalling the latest casualty report: 150 Drachmans dead, 12 dead on the Amestrian side—double what she had reported to Mustang the previous day. At least twenty were injured, some seriously. As of 0100 that morning, the war was starting to escalate into its lethal stride.

Martin nodded, looking further out into the arena. "I wonder what possessed them to do this. They could have attacked us at any time over the past sixteen years, or even right after the Promised Day. What bothers me is…why now?"

"Who knows," Olivier muttered. "It's not like wars are inherently supposed to have a timetable."

"My apologies, General."

"Why the hell are you apologising?" Olivier snapped. Martin stiffened as the General continued. "You don't survive by being apologetic all the damn time! You survive by analysing the situation and playing cat and mouse!"

Martin stood at attention. "Acknowledged, ma'am!"

Olivier sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm getting too old for this," she admitted. "But I like it here. There's so much more for me to do for my country, and for Briggs. I absolutely _refuse_ to retire before Alex does; it would be disgraceful."

Martin faced her, a small smile on her face. "I don't think Briggs would be the same without you, General."

Olivier studied her subordinate like a cat studying its prey. "How old are you, Colonel?"

Martin blinked. "Thirty, as of January. Does that matter?"

"Not really," Olivier said, smirking a little. "I was trying to see how close you were to breaking Roy Mustang's age record of being promoted to the same rank."

Martin shrugged. "I was three years short, sadly," she said, referring to her promotion the previous year. "But, to be fair, I wasn't aiming to break any records."

"I suppose not."

The two women took their seats, and 0600 hours soon came as new soldiers filtered into the room. Olivier stood, the shinies saluting below her.

"Comrades," she greeted them. "You walk these mountains not as a keeper of the peace, but as defenders of Amestris. Briggs has one law, and one law only: Stay sharp, or you'll die the moment your wits fail you. War follows this law to a T. The fort's goal in this war is to be Amestris's emergency line of defence to keep the Drachmans out should everything else digress into a shit show. You are here today to see if you are worthy of the harsh environment that is the eternal winter of Drachma. Those who are will be extremely vital to our campaign. Let us begin!"

The group saluted her from below. "AYE, MA'AM!"

The training exercise had begun.

Half an hour soon passed. Olivier had remarked some time earlier to the Colonel that the green soldiers were doing much better than she had expected, thought the Colonel had attributed that prowess to the soldiers' fear of the Northern Wall of Briggs.

Olivier had shrugged. "Well. I judge everyone I meet by my own eyes rather than by word of mouth, Colonel. They should be less afraid of me than of everything they stand for getting trampled by the Drachmans." It was true that a lot of people in the military feared her wrath; even Roy Mustang himself, Flame Alchemist and Führer-President, seemed to not want to get on her bad side.

To which she mentally responded: _Do your own damn job, Mustang._

The General had pondered the Colonel's sentiment for the next several minutes, lamenting slightly that many in the military did not understand the full extent of the philosophy concerning Briggs. Psychologically, nature and nurture determined how a person developed throughout his or her lifetime. Where Briggs was concerned, nature was the harsh environment and nurture was the Monolith. Anything less than that, as far as she was concerned, was detrimental to survival.

Olivier soon came to a bitter conclusion: People feared her because they were ignorant of the challenges that Briggs had put her through. Even then, that was no excuse. She said as much to Martin, to which the younger woman responded: "Can you make them not be ignorant, then?"

"It's not that easy," Olivier muttered. "It's not like Führer Mustang can afford to transfer every goddamn soldier to this place. Amestris would be even more vulnerable." She snorted. "I might loathe the guy, but I have to give him credit for his tactical prowess and not doing anything so stupid."

Martin had nodded. Now, they watched as the soldiers blasted their way through a simulation Drachman encampment, though many were taken down. The Colonel scoffed. "Surely they have the common sense to know that breaking straight into a bear's den is _not_ a smart idea?"

"Hell if I know," Olivier deadpanned. She watched curiously as two of the younger soldiers broke out of formation and worked side by side in looting a weapons depot and stealthily taking out the encampment's nerve centre. The Ice Queen folded her arms. "Nice job," she admitted, turning to the Colonel. "I wonder who gave them the order to break formation. Have you met them at all?"

"Yes, ma'am," she responded. "Privates Morton and Jacob Davies, hailing from Fisk."

Olivier raised an eyebrow. "Brothers?"

"Twins," Martin confirmed. "They do pretty much everything together…even going to war."

A brief wave of nostalgia briefly got the best of her. "They remind me of the Elric brothers somehow." Olivier's briskness soon returned. "How do you know all of this, anyway?"

"I met with the shinies at the bar the other day," Martin explained. "It's better to know what you're up against than not, right?"

"Correct," Olivier agreed satisfactorily. She watched as a third soldier, a woman with ginger hair, effortlessly took out one of the "enemy" sentries but proceeded to beat the shit out of him as he screamed. "That one's out of line," she remarked, standing. "Stop the exercise!"

The soldiers stood down. Olivier glared at the ginger. "You! Name and rank!"

The woman saluted. "First Lieutenant Lola Fitzgerald, ma'am!"

Olivier sighed, noting the blood on the woman's clothes. "Need I remind you, Lieutenant, that this is an indoor simulation, and that you almost beat your comrade to death?"

"No, ma'am," she muttered.

Olivier sighed. "Take him to the infirmary, then meet with myself and Colonel Martin. Take the Davies twins with you, too."

The Privates' eyes were wide with what appeared to be terror as they saluted. The three of them hauled the poor soldier out of there. Olivier faced the rest of the group. "Continue."

Nothing else interesting happened for the rest of the exercise. Colonel Martin dismissed the group at 0800, turning afterwards to face her superior. "When will we be seeing them, General?"

Olivier shrugged. "If Fitzgerald and the twins aren't here in ten minutes, we'll head down to the infirmary ourselves to see what the hell is taking so long."

Seven minutes later, Olivier found herself eating her words as the three soldiers in question made their way towards them. They paused, saluting at attention.

"Private Morton Davies," she began. "Private Jacob Davies. First Lieutenant Lola Fitzgerald. Perhaps you are wondering why the Colonel and I singled the three of you out specifically."

No one moved, although Olivier noticed sweat dripping down Fitzgerald's brow.

"Fitzgerald, you took the battle into your own hands and provided no mercy to the enemy," Olivier barked. "Even though this is war, you need to bear in mind that the lives of your comrades are just as important as your own. This is not a violent free-for-all; you should know this."

Fitzgerald winced, chastised.

"As for you two," Olivier continued, directing her icy stare the twins' way. "Who gave you the order to loot the depot and eliminate the nerve centre?"

The twins pointed at each other. Martin face-palmed, but a glare from her superior prevented her from lashing out at them. "What was the reason for your insubordination?" she asked coolly.

One of the twins cleared his throat. "With all due respect, General, our orders were wrong. Brigadier General Brosh would have gotten a lot of people killed if this really was the battlefield. His tactical oversight was impractical; _we_ saved lives. What else could we have done?"

The other twin rounded on him. "And if this really _was_ the battlefield, we would've gotten court-martialled, you idiot!"

" _You_ didn't have to go along with it, Morty."

Martin was starting to look like she was going to explode. "For fuck's sake, shut your pie holes, both of you!"

The brothers stared at her. The black-haired Colonel's face was red with anger. "First of all, _you,_ " she hissed, pointing at Jacob, "need to listen very hard to your brother, because he is very much correct where the court martial is concerned. And you, Morton," she added, "you didn't have to go along with your brother's reckless and arrogant plan. So why did you?"

Morton Davies grimaced. "He's my idiot twin, ma'am. Somebody had to save his ass."

Olivier and Martin glanced at each other. The General faced the twins. "I see." _They definitely remind me of the Elrics,_ she thought grimly. _But that kind of empathy is only going to get them killed._

The General gestured for Martin to move further down the hall so they could talk in private. The Colonel nodded, barking at the three hell-raisers to stand at attention until told otherwise. Both of them made their way down about fifty metres before Olivier paused, deciding it was safe to speak.

"What are your thoughts on those three, Colonel?" she asked.

Martin snorted. "If I had my way, they'd be doing laps around Fort Briggs until their legs froze off. But," she added begrudgingly, "they do think outside of the box. We need people like them. Also, Fitzgerald's a bruiser, and that would prove useful on the front lines."

Olivier nodded. The Colonel studied her closely. "What are you thinking, General?"

Olivier glanced at her. "I think we should try them on the squad."

Martin raised an eyebrow. "You want them on Delta Squad, General?"

"That's what I just said, Colonel." She turned. "You're the second-highest ranking officer where that is concerned; what are your thoughts?"

Martin blinked. "I'm not one to speak for Brigadier General Tammin, but—"

Olivier's stare became freezing. "I'm not asking you what Brigadier General Tammin thinks, Colonel," she snapped. "I'm asking what _you_ think."

Martin nodded, thinking for a moment. "They're scrappy and reckless," she said at last. "But something tells me they have potential to grow into major assets. We're short on officers as it is; we lost Lieutenant Colonel Redding and his scouts yesterday, so that just leaves myself, Tammin, and Warrant Officer Lockheed. We need more people, General."

"Then it's settled," Olivier decided. The two women made their way back to the three soldiers in question, still locked at attention. _At least they had that much discipline drilled into them,_ Olivier thought approvingly.

"At ease," she barked. The soldiers relaxed, but anxiety was betrayed in their eyes. Olivier cleared her throat.

"Private Morton Davies," she began. "Private Jacob Davies. First Lieutenant Fitzgerald."

The three of them seemed to hold their breath, evidently awaiting whatever "punishment" their superiors were about to dish out on them. In a way, this _was_ punishment, but Amestris needed to survive, no matter what.

"Congratulations. All three of you are being assigned to Delta Squad."

* * *

Edward didn't know whether to be grateful that his fever broke or not. His leg hurt like hell where the automail ports were, and—

Scratch that. His automail leg wasn't even there.

Edward sighed. _They must have taken it off of me while I was out of it._ Oh well. He could settle for staying in bed a little longer. The Lieutenant Colonel sat up awkwardly on the bed, taking a drink out of a bottle of water on the nearby desk.

"Three months," he muttered, looking up at the ceiling. "Three months until what, though?" Edward shook his head. "Forget it. It was just a goddamn fever dream, anyway. They're meant to be confusing."

 _Then how do you explain the raven in Amestris?_ A voice in the back of his mind countered. Edward looked down into his drink, sighing. Ravens meant trouble, and for all he knew this could only be the beginning.

He thought of the strange nightmare that he'd had the night before they had landed on this planet. That had seemed eerily similar to the fever dreams, and yet it had also come off as vastly different. The raven had given him the same message: _Three months_. Edward frowned, deep in thought. It was September now, so whatever the raven had been attempting to convey to him would occur sometime in December. But what?

"I _really_ hope this isn't a repeat of the Promised Day," he complained to the otherwise empty room. As he expected, there was no response. Edward scanned the room, noticing his leg in a corner. Remembering a vague part of his fever dream, he reached out with an arm, concentrating on bringing the leg back to him.

The leg didn't budge.

Edward hissed in frustration, trying again but to no avail. The former alchemist snorted mirthlessly. "I can stop bullets in a goddamn dream, but I can't even pick up _my own leg?_ " He leaned back against the wall, sighing. "Then again, I _did_ get shot."

He placed all of his focus on the leg the next time, and it slowly rose up into the air. Edward grinned in satisfaction, pulling his arm backwards in an effort to get the leg to come to him.

The key words, he found out a few seconds later, should have been "get the leg to come to him gently", as the artificial limb rushed toward him at full force and hit him right in the solar plexus. Edward grunted, the wind knocked out of him for a moment, glaring at the appendage.

"Why…" he groaned, coughing as air flowed back into his lungs. "Now _why_ did you have to do that?"

The leg wisely stayed silent.

Edward picked up the limb, cursing inwardly as he realised that he needed a spanner and someone to reattach the nerve connections to the ports in order for the leg to be of use to him. The oversight was annoying. He laid back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling, suddenly wishing for Winry to be there to lend her expertise, even though reality bluntly reminded him that she was aeons away.

* * *

The woman whistled a tune on her way home from work, an old ditty by some jazz player in the South Area whose name she could not recall at the moment. Her house wasn't too far from the automail shop that she specialised at as a mechanic, but it was far enough that it took half an hour to walk back home. She sighed, once again marvelling at the sight of the city. Rush Valley—an automail mechanic's dream, and her home for the past fifteen years. It was beautiful, but news of all-out war against Drachma had caused the atmosphere to drastically change. Productivity, where the automail industry was concerned, jumped to a morbidly utilitarian standard in less than two days. The industry thrived in war, and her pay cheque essentially rode on death and dismemberment. Automail engineers and mechanics now worked two to three times as hard to provide cold-weather prostheses to soldiers, and the cost wasn't cheap. Carbon was getting to be just as expensive as steel, leading to civilian rationing of the material. Workers had to increase their shift durations just to stay on top of civilian and military demands, and the effects weren't pretty. These were inclusive of fatigue, over-indulgence of caffeinated and/or alcoholic beverages on the job, and, in her case, leaving a teenager and a twelve-year-old alone for practically the entire day with zero chance of getting time off to spend with them.

Winry Elric had borne witness to this industry all her life, even during the war in Ishval that had killed her parents, but this time was different. She had two children to look after now, and she had to provide on her own since her husband was completing a mission at the approval of now-Führer Roy Mustang. The whole of Amestris had known that Grumman was retiring weeks earlier, but the army had made a huge effort to keep it under wraps. It wasn't until Drachma had declared war on Amestris that Mustang's promotion had been announced, despite him being in office for close to six weeks. So many people had been conscripted for the war effort…and so many people would die, that was for certain. She wished Edward would just come home.

Winry arrived at her destination, letting herself into the house as the door closed behind her. She put her tool bag down, shouting to Quinlan and Katrina that she was home, although she wasn't expecting a response. She didn't get one. The mechanic sighed, making her way into the kitchen to get some coffee going. She put water in the kettle, placing it on the woodstove to get it warmed up.

"Hi, Mom."

Winry turned, noticing her son. She was about to say hello, but concern and anger flared upon noticing a very obvious black eye on the left side of his face.

"Quinlan Maes Elric," she said coolly, "What the hell were you up to?"

The fourteen-year-old shifted his gaze, cowing under his mother's stare. "Nothing."

Winry snorted. "Really? Because that shiner on your face is telling me otherwise."

Quinlan's face turned beet red with embarrassment. His gold eyes finally met her blue ones. "Geoffrey beat me up."

Winry raised an eyebrow. Sixteen-year-old Geoffrey Whittaker, the stubborn-minded son of State Alchemist Michael Whittaker, lived two blocks north of their estate and was close friends with Quinlan. For them to get into a fistfight with one another…that wasn't like either of them. "What did you do to make _him_ mad?"

"Nothing!" Quinlan protested. He pulled his long strawberry-blond hair out of his face and tied it back into a ponytail, unfortunately for him making the shiner even more obvious. "He insulted Dad, so I went ahead and kicked him in the balls. Serves _him_ right. This—" he gestured to the black eye "was retaliatory."

Winry raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. "So what you're telling me is that you got physical with him, and what he did was in self-defence."

Quinlan glowered, sulking. "Basically. But he called Dad a pawn of the military because he was the Fullmetal Alchemist and all, and he said that Dad was dead meat for the Drachmans because he's just an ordinary guy with a metal leg. He said Dad was stupid for leaving us on our own like this."

"Even so, that's no excuse," Winry said sternly. "We'll discuss this more during dinner. Go get yourself cleaned up."

"Am I grounded?"

Winry glared at him. "Damn right you're grounded! What will your sister think when she sees you like this?"

Quinlan shrugged. "She'll think it's pretty cool."

"Even if it's from your friend?"

The teenager sulked. "He's a jerk."

Winry rolled her eyes. _He's just got to figure this out for himself, preferably without being any more of a dumbass._ "Friends can be jerks sometimes, as can siblings. That's the way it is." The kettle began to squeal, and she took it off the stove. "We'll talk about this later. You are not to leave this house before dinner, do you understand?"

Her son nodded, making his way upstairs. Winry sighed, pouring the hot water into a filter already containing coffee grounds. _At least the coffee hasn't had a bad day,_ she thought annoyedly as she made her way to the telephone. She dialled the line for the Whittaker estate once the coffee had been filtered, desiring the upcoming conversation less and less as an operator made the connection.

" _Hello?"_

Winry sighed. "Hi, Helena, it's Winry."

The woman on the other side of the phone made a noise that sounded like a mixture of groaning and fretting. Winry interpreted that as a plea to be put out of her misery. _"Quinlan told you, didn't he?"_

"Yep," Winry confirmed exasperatedly. "It doesn't help that tensions have been high because of the war, either."

" _No,"_ Geoffrey's mother agreed. _"How have you been faring?"_

Winry stretched, picking up a wrench from the nearby counter. "Busy. Ed's gone out, so it's just me and the two hellions for the time being. The mayor's making us mechanics work like crazy now. It's only been five days since the declaration was announced, and it's already hectic out there."

" _No kidding."_ Helena Whittaker changed the topic. _"Geoffrey is telling me that Quinlan started it. Is that true?"_

Winry shrugged. "Yes and no. Quinlan told me that he _did_ start the physical violence, so he's grounded for that, but he says that, beforehand, your son insulted my husband because of the war and his time as a State Alchemist, so it looks like he brought this one on himself."

Helena sighed. _"What exactly did he tell you?"_

Winry told the other woman as much as she could remember. Helena sighed. _"Can't say I blame him. The poor kid's afraid, but it doesn't give him any right to take it out on people."_

"What?" Winry asked, confused.

" _You know how Mikey got his certification last year? There's rumour that State Alchemists could be deployed again if things go south."_

Winry knew exactly where this is going. "Just like with Ishval."

" _I sincerely hope not."_

The call ended. Winry raised an eyebrow. She hung the receiver back on the wall, turning around to see Quinlan on the other side of the kitchen, looking downtrodden.

"Dad's not coming home, is he?" he asked.

Winry placed her wrench back on the counter. "Not for a while," she admitted. "He said it might be a few months, but he does miss us."

Quinlan gritted his teeth. "I don't want him to come home!"

Winry stared at him, astounded. "Quinlan—"

Katrina walked in, blue eyes wide at the exchange. Both mother and son turned to face the twelve-year-old girl, neither apparently sure how to react. She looked…scared, for the lack of a better term. "Dad's going to be sent off to the war, isn't he?"

Winry leaned back against the counter. "I—" she faltered, her composure starting to break down. "I don't know."

Katrina ran to her, fear in her eyes. "Is Dad going to die?"

Quinlan's gold eyes widened as he turned back towards the mechanic. "Mom…?" There was a noticeable tremor in his voice.

Winry gritted her teeth. _Don't do this…not now._ "Okay, everybody just calm down! No one's going to die anytime soon, all right?"

She hoped.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

FROM THE JOURNAL OF LT COLONEL EDWARD ELRIC

 _19 September 1933_

 _Truthfully, I had no idea how to start writing this report. The last time I had to do an "official" military document was back when I was a State Alchemist, and even then, I had parameters. This is different._

 _So how can I explain everything that's happened all at once without procrastinating?_

 _Maybe that's where these journal entries come in…_

 _Okay. Yeah, I'll do that._

 _Let me start at the beginning._

 _One thing that Mustang had suggested to me at the bar—just before we got wasted—was that I document my experiences from this mission and debrief him about what a completely different planet was like once I get back. I thought it was crazy at first. Winry thought it was a good idea after I brought it up with her on the phone. Now that I think about it, I kind of want to do it out of sheer curiosity, but also for the sake of pragmatism._

 _It has been four days since I woke up from that fever, and another two since I was able to get my ass out of bed. Don't worry; I'm okay. Everyone else…it depends._

 _Ahsoka seems to be getting more used to not having to rely on echolocation. Her nightmares, from what she's been telling me, have stabilised, but I think that's because she's sleeping less (according to Mei). She's deliberately running herself down just so she doesn't have to dream. That's not exactly a good thing. Sabine says she has nightmares about what happened as well…turns out they reminded her of terrible things she had to do while at the Imperial Academy; that's probably why she broke down when we first met. I think that's also why she's drinking a lot. Mei's doing fine. Al keeps going out at night for some reason, but he seems to know what he's doing, so I'm not going to pester him about it._

 _Disclaimer: I might have to do some cherry-picking here to see what it is I can include in my official report._

 _I got Al to reattach my leg again, but a part of me wished that I hadn't needed to in the first place. The dark side, that's what he called it, it's eating at him. It looked as though he was enjoying my pain a little too much while he was connecting the nerves, but he clearly seemed alarmed by the feeling. What I am alarmed by is how much he has changed on the inside. If you look at him you might see the same old Alphonse Elric, but that's increasingly bearing the appearance of a façade. He's running out of time._

 _And then there's the raven to worry about._

 _Like I told Ahsoka a while ago, ravens are viewed as death birds and bad omens in Amestris. How is it that I've been seeing them, and they all give me the same message: "Three months." Those damn birds still refuse to elaborate on exactly_ _what_ _will be happening in December._

 _Speaking of stuff happening, it's time to get down to business._

 _The mission: Go to some forest planet in Wild Space and blow up a forbidden transmutation circle._

 _Easier said than done._

 _The transmutation circle takes up the entire eastern hemisphere. Take that out, and who knows what will happen to the planet's balance. I keep thinking about what Izumi Sensei used to tell Al and I when we were kids: "All is One; One is All." We learned on the island that "All" was the flow of the universe, and the universe itself. Given what I know now, how does the Force play into all of this? How much life is on the planet near the transmutation circle? If we blow it up, lives will be lost. Not just sentient lives; I'm referring more to the ecosystem. That's not exactly what I'd call Equivalent Exchange._

 _I'll have to bring it up with the group later. Maybe we can develop some sort of countermeasure to make sure as few people get hurt as possible. But how, though? I doubt Truth has an alkahest. Then again, it would probably be a lot worse if he did._

 _Goddamn it, I'm digressing into hypotheticals again._

 _Well, Mustang, I hope you're ready for some bookwork._

 _PS: If anyone wants you to make a copy of these notes, please make sure to redact the parts about…the thing unless you absolutely trust them. You know what I'm talking about._

* * *

 _Beeeep. Beeeeep. Beeeeep. Beep. Bee—_

Ahsoka slammed her hand down on the chronometer's snooze button, staring at the ceiling. Normally, alarm clocks didn't bother her all that much. This time, they were driving her insane.

"Five more minutes," she groaned, tired. She needed to sleep. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she found herself treated to the same rude awakening that Edward had gotten when he had woken up from his fever.

"Get off," she growled, glaring daggers at Xiao Mei.

The panda fled as fast as she could, evidently having enough of an understanding to figure out that Togrutas were predatorial as the door opened and shut behind her. Ahsoka sat up, groaning. She probably overslept. The former Jedi glanced at the chronometer, a noncommittal expression crossing her face. _21:17._ She had set her alarm for twelve hours earlier, so that "probably" from her earlier thought was one the woman mentally switched to a "definitely."

 _Karma's a bitch,_ she thought begrudgingly.

She stretched, soon walking out the door and outside the ship. It was night-time on the planet, so whatever time it was there would be no sunlight for probably another three standard days or so. Ahsoka scanned her surroundings, the lack of echolocation unsettling her as she detected no movement around her from any living organisms. There wasn't even a damn breeze.

"…no chance of winning now," she heard a familiar masculine voice say somewhere close to her.

"Not quite," another voice said, also recognisable. "If I remember the rules correctly, I have what you might call an Idiot's Array."

"…Goddamn it."

Ahsoka turned, seeing two familiar figures near the T-6's wing. She smirked, walking over to where the Elric brothers were playing…

"Who taught you how to play sabacc?" she asked.

Both brothers' responses were immediate: "Sabine."

Edward frowned. "I was so close…"

She understood, pointing to Alphonse. "You were the one with the Idiot's Array?"

"Yep," the alchemist confirmed, sliding a sly look Edward's way.

"Fuck you," Edward muttered half-heartedly, though the insult contained no bite. He redirected his gaze toward the former Jedi. "You need something, Ahsoka?"

"No," Ahsoka admitted. "I just wanted some fresh air."

Alphonse smirked. "It'll be fresher away from this sore loser." He gestured to Edward, who responded with a kick to his brother's shin.

The Togruta raised an eyebrow.

"I owe him fifty thousand cenz when we get home!" Edward complained.

Ahsoka shrugged. "Not my problem."

Edward stood. "Fine! Then we'll focus on something that _is_ your problem!"

The Togruta snorted. _I've got too many to count._ "Good luck sorting through that mess."

"You know the one I mean," Edward retorted stiffly.

Ahsoka groaned, getting the gist of what he meant. "Fine, fine. We'll leave in a few minutes." Not that she particularly wanted to, but she had to face the Forest eventually.

Edward nodded, walking back into the ship.

Alphonse rolled his eyes. "Don't mind him; he's had a shitty day."

She folded her arms. "Do tell."

"Nightmares?"

The former Jedi snorted. "No; I didn't want to wake up, so I overslept by twelve hours and woke up with Xiao Mei's butt in my face."

Alphonse laughed. When he was done, the alchemist shook his head, evidently still tickled by whatever mental image he had conjured in his mind.

Ahsoka, however, was not in the mood for amusement, especially not around someone teetering closer to the dark side. She didn't want another repeat of what happened to Anakin and how the whole galaxy had gone to hell afterwards. The former Jedi reached out with the Force, finding Alphonse's presence already colder than it was a day or two earlier. The dark side had not taken him over yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time before it did.

She was not ready to lose anyone else to its machinations.

Alphonse gave her a noncommittal look, likely catching on to the train of thoughts coming from her mind. She responded with a nonverbal hand gesture that read, _I've got my eyes on you._

Edward eventually returned, adjusting his thigh-length hair into a somewhat haphazard-looking ponytail. "You two ready?" he asked, hands no longer messing with the style. His eyes were serious.

Alphonse nodded. Ahsoka shrugged. "Ready as I'll ever be."

They headed into the cargo bay. Ahsoka pulled out her preferred speeder, while Alphonse got his hands on another. The Togruta raised an eyebrow. "You sure you can drive that thing?"

"Mei gave me a few lessons the other day," he responded.

"That's not exactly reassuring."

"Well, too bad," he retorted, hauling it outside. Ahsoka sighed, following. _This is off to a good start._ Sarcastically speaking, anyway.

* * *

A few minutes into the trip, Edward found himself starting to agree with Ahsoka's prejudgement of his brother's driving skills. Driving a car was one thing—those had wheels. This…Now that he thought about it, riding an air speeder was like trying to ride a mechanical bird. He gritted his teeth as turbulence started to become an issue.

"Can't you get this to go any smoother?" Edward snapped.

"Just be patient," Alphonse retorted. "I'm learning this as I go."

"I thought Mei gave you lessons!"

"Well, she didn't tell me how to deal with _passengers!_ "

Edward sighed. "Since when did you start being an asshole?"

Alphonse shut up after that, although the older sibling started to shiver upon sensing just how cold his brother's presence had gotten in the past few seconds. Edward could tell that the alchemist was fuming, but to feel it this extensively was unnerving.

 _Maybe that bond between our souls is still active,_ he thought worriedly, briefly recalling the accident that had occurred during his first attempt at human transmutation. Another thought came to his mind. _If that's the case, then was that what drove me to make that promise on the way to this planet? That makes sense; so does the way I was able to pull him back from the dark side while we were drunk and fighting. But, to be honest, I thought that was all over when I gave up my Gate and Al got his body back._

"We're here," Ahsoka announced, breaking Edward out of reverie. He blinked. _I wasn't aware that we had stopped._ Even as they dismounted their speeders, the Lieutenant Colonel had a nasty feeling that he wasn't going to like what they were walking into.

* * *

Ahsoka glanced at the brothers as they dismounted, hiding her unease behind a masque of durasteel. The last thing she needed in a time like this was to show weakness. A closer look, however, left her fears unfounded: both Elrics did not look comfortable going near the damned thing.

She cleared her throat. "Shall we?" she asked, voice dull.

Edward and Alphonse exchanged dark glances with one another. Ahsoka took that as a "yes" and turned on her heel, guiding the men to the fateful site.

 _Why are you coming back here?_ A voice in her mind asked. _You know what happened._

She took a deep breath. _I know. But I have to face reality._ The Togruta looked up at the skyline, branches high above her. _Truth was right; I can't keep bitching about this forever. My life has been full of hellish nightmares; this is just another one to add to the list._ She looked straight in front of her now. _Am I truly ready for this?_ She thought of the they ready to face this again?

"How much farther?" Edward asked, momentarily distracting her.

Ahsoka stopped, scanning her surroundings. That uneasy feeling was getting closer, and she was starting to recognise the area. "A few hundred metres, my guess."

"You _guess?_ " the former alchemist asked incredulously. Alphonse sighed in the background. Ahsoka turned, giving the men an annoyed look. "I didn't bring a map with me if that's what you're thinking."

 _But we're definitely headed in the right direction,_ she added silently.

They continued on, the feeling of wrongness getting closer and closer until—

Ahsoka stared at the ground in front of her, frozen in terror at what she was seeing.

"Is that…?" Edward breathed, his own terror prominent in the Force.

Ahsoka didn't respond right away, kneeling in front of the corpse of her taboo. She closed her eyes, tears starting to roll down her face. "Forgive me," she whispered. "This was never meant to happen."

She felt Edward's hand clench her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. The last thing she needed right now was sympathy. Memories overtook her, memories of how that thing had appeared shortly after the transmutation, oh fuck, the transmutation—

"OI! AHSOKA!"

Something forcefully shook her out of the traumatic flashback. The Togruta blinked slowly, looking up to find Edward in front of her, hands tightly gripping her shoulders, a scared look on his face. She sensed Alphonse off to the side, not doing much better.

"Damn it, woman, you can't give up now!" Edward chastised her, barely lowering his voice. "You have to keep going!"

 _The Clone Wars. Vader._ Those experiences had left deep mental scars, but she was able to bounce back. But this…

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME? GET UP AND MOVE FORWARD!"

Ahsoka blinked. "Is that what you thought, after you tried to bring back your mother?" she asked quietly, surprising herself to find how dull and defeated her voice was. Edward recoiled, hands retracting from her shoulders. She expected another shouting match. But when he spoke, his voice was as dull as her own. "No."

He took a deep breath, albeit a shaky one. "We almost died trying. The only thing going through my head at the time was that I wanted to save the only family I had left. But we couldn't stay hidden in the past, and so we had no choice but to go ahead and live our lives while trying to fix ourselves." He studied her closely. "I'm sure you had similar goals when you were a teenager."

Ahsoka snorted mirthlessly. "How could I? I was a soldier; all I could do was stay alive and fight in that goddamn war." She stood, walking around the former alchemist toward the creature. It looked nothing like any species she had seen in person or on the HoloNet; the closest thing she could compare it to was a Grysk, but there were some key dissimilarities that told her otherwise. The skull shape was different, and the teeth were still intact. She searched the Force for answers, but she found nothing of help to her.

"What is it?" she asked, confused.

"You don't know the species?" Alphonse queried.

"No, I don't. That's what worries me." _It's not in the galactic database, so what the hell is it?_ Another thing about it that unsettled her was that the creature was, for the lack of a better term, not merely a void in the Force, but an absence. It was as though it had never existed, dead _or_ alive, but her eyes said differently. How was that even _possible?_

"We can worry about what it is and isn't later," Edward said firmly. "Right now, we need to be more concerned about the circle."

Ahsoka nodded, walking away from the corpse without looking back. It was past time that she needed to do so; after all, it wasn't alive to torment her. Give or take the nightmares, anyway, but she pushed that thought out of her mind. The creature was dead. _Dead._ That part of the ordeal was over. As for the circle…

Well. That would be more of a challenge.

Once again, she stared hell in the face, moving toward danger.

* * *

"This is a seriously bad idea," Alphonse muttered. He could definitely sense alchemical energy in the direction they were going, but, as far as taboo went, this was far more unsettling than what had happened in his childhood.

Edward shrugged. "She needed to face this eventually, the same way we did. This was the only way, Al."

"Was it?" the alchemist countered. "Everyone responds differently to this thing, Ed."

"I'm damn well aware of that."

Alphonse gritted his teeth, his own memories threatening to get to him the way Ahsoka had broken down earlier. He could feel the dark side's influence whispering within him, imploring him to give in…if only Edward hadn't made such a dangerously stupid promise. It would have been far less complicated.

It was far too late to give up now, though.

He reached out with the Force, sensing his brother's river-like presence and Ahsoka's presence of fortified light. She was hiding behind walls, and Edward was hiding behind a fortress. As for himself…Alphonse wore his scars the way he wore the armour.

"Just what does the dark side have to do with this?" he whispered, mind flashing back while he walked.

* * *

 _SEVEN YEARS EARLIER…_

 _ **CURIO BASEMENT, SOMEWHERE IN XING**_

Alphonse tried to process just how the strange red pyramid seemed to resonate with him. It felt…weird, for the lack of a better term. Even though he wasn't touching it, it radiated a soul-chilling coldness that somehow felt familiar to him.

"There's something weird about this, isn't there?" he asked the curio shop owner, hoping that he had used the correct Xingese wording.

The old man sighed. "Yes." Upon seeing the alchemist's unease, he offered a wan smile. "No, it is not a Philosopher's Stone."

Well, at least _that_ was good. "I don't understand. What could create something like this?"

"Alchemists of a darker breed," the old man responded. He gestured for Alphonse to pick up the pyramid. The alchemist obeyed, sitting on the floor once the task was accomplished.

"By what name are you known, young one?"

He blinked. "Alphonse Elric." The alchemist clapped his hands, planning to transmute the glass into powder so he could see what was inside. He placed his hands on the small object, but the alchemical energy rebounded. Alphonse scrambled backwards, fearful of another encounter with the Entity at the Gate, noticing that the cinder blocks where he had been seconds earlier had been reduced to ash.

The pyramid was still intact.

"You will not be able to open it via use of alchemy, young one." the curio man responded as Alphonse stared aghast at the pyramid. The alchemist gave the old man an annoyed look that Edward would be proud of. "Then how else do you expect me to open it?" he retorted. "There's no locking mechanism on here."

"Ashla will guide you," he said simply.

Alphonse raised an eyebrow. "Ashla?" he asked, dubious. "Who's Ashla?"

The old man smiled, more warmly this time. "Your question is worded incorrectly, Alphonse Elric. It is not a question of who, in this case, but of what."

 _And here I thought it was a syntactical error,_ Alphonse deadpanned mentally. _But is this guy crazy or something?_ "Okay, fine," Alphonse conceded. " _What_ is Ashla?"

"Ah, good, good. Now you're asking the right question."

 _Get on with it,_ Alphonse thought. If he didn't know better, he'd say that the pyramid was affecting him somehow. He shook his head. An object couldn't cause that reaction; it was impossible. He was just nervous and confused, that was all.

"Ashla is the energy of the universe," the old man began. "Different people have different names and interpretations concerning it. Some of us call it 'Ashla'; to others, it is known as 'the Force'. It is among popular belief that this energy has a light and a dark side, though most people often favour one or the other."

"I'm not most people," Alphonse retorted.

"I could tell that much the moment I first saw you," the old man responded, calm as ever. "Just as I can tell you've been studying our language for quite a while. Why is that, if I may ask?"

"I wanted to study Eastern Alchemy. Also, my girlfriend is Xingese."

The old man nodded approvingly. "Do you have a Xingese name?"

"Hún Tiěmiàn."

"She gave you that name?"

"Yes."

The old man took a piece of charcoal out of his pocket and drew a trio of Xingese characters on the wall. "These are the characters, correct?"

Alphonse inspected them, nodding in recognition. "Yes."

"Hmmmm," the old man said thoughtfully. "The character for soul, followed by the characters for an iron surface. These two in particular can be translated in multiple ways when combined." He looked Alphonse up and down. "Yes, I believe it suits you perfectly, and in more ways than one."

Alphonse raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know of the concept of qì?"

"I do," the alchemist responded. "What does that have to do with the topic at hand?"

"Everything, Hún Xiānsheng. Everything."

"Explain," Alphonse ordered, not entirely convinced.

The old man gave him a wry smile. "I can't possibly give you all the answers now, can I?" he asked. "This is for you to explore."

Alphonse sighed. "Wonderful." He changed the subject, looking directly at the curio owner. "You seem to know quite a bit about my story," he said. "Can you tell me about yours?"

The old man seemed to be taken aback by this question. He sat down in front of Alphonse. "Listen to me carefully, young one…"

* * *

 _NOW…_

"…any closer, and you'd have run into that tree," Ahsoka said.

Alphonse blinked, noticing he was only centimetres away from a tree trunk directly in front of him. How long had he been flashing back?

Long enough, apparently.

"Alphonse?" Ahsoka asked, wariness in her voice. "You doing okay?"

 _She's more concerned about you going berserk rather than for your health,_ the Gatekeeper explained.

 _Just shut up,_ Alphonse snapped. _I'm not in the mood for this right now._ "Yeah," he responded automatically. "I zoned out for a bit."

"That's obvious."

He scanned the area. "How much farther?"

Ahsoka pointed in front of her. Alphonse followed her gaze, seeing a large clearing in the centre. Just the vibe it gave off…He paled. "Human Transmutation." Something else was wrong. "Where's Ed?"

"Look up."

Alphonse turned his head upwards, seeing his brother in the branches a couple of metres above him. He folded his arms, raising an eyebrow in scepticism. "Brother, what the blazes are you doing up there?"

"Something's not right about that circle," Edward shouted down at him.

" _Of course_ there isn't something right about that circle, you idiot!" the alchemist retorted.

"Well, there's something _even less right_ about it! I don't know why; that's what's bothering me!"

Alphonse shrugged. "What makes you think you can see it from up there?"

"Would you rather get caught in the same trap that Ahsoka did?"

 _Huh._ He hadn't thought about that. "Good point. I'm coming up."

A minute or so of climbing later brought him to the network of branches where Edward was currently perched. The former alchemist was deep in thought, staring ahead at what appeared to be the circle. Alphonse followed his gaze, seeing a human transmutation circle burned into the dirt.

"Do those runes look a bit off to you?" Edward asked.

Alphonse frowned. "What do you mean, exactly?"

Edward pointed to a symbol on the right. "That should be the symbol for one of the three primes, but it looks very different. Same goes for the runes etched out for a good portion of the circle. There are too many alkaline metals, from what I can tell."

"So what you're saying is that someone fucked up their theory."

"Basically." Edward sighed. "But there's something else. Look at the ground, Al. If this was recent, then the ground should still be covered in ash. It's not; there's plant life growing around it."

Alphonse glanced at the grass in the clearing, then gave his brother a dubious look. "How long are we talking?"

The former alchemist shrugged. "Decades, maybe. I don't know for certain." He stretched, not looking back. "What do you think, Ahsoka?"

"From what I could understand, I don't think this was meant to be a trap," a voice said behind the alchemist. Alphonse whirled around, seeing Ahsoka sitting on a branch just slightly above him. "When did you get here?" he spluttered. He turned back to Edward. "How did you know she was here?"

"I saw her start to climb up while I was checking out those runes," his brother responded.

Alphonse sighed. "You could have told me that sooner."

Edward ignored him, evidently eyeing the runes again.

"You sense it, don't you?" Ahsoka asked. "There's so much energy flowing from that thing."

"Yeah," Edward confirmed.

Alphonse nodded. He definitely sensed that, all right, but he also picked up on something even more alarming: the instability of a rebound. He knew it was inevitable where Human Transmutation was concerned, but the effect didn't last that long when the accident had happened. No, he realised, the effect was _still continuing._

"We can't stay here," he warned. "There's still a rebound effect."

Edward stiffened.

"What's a rebound effect?" Ahsoka asked, tension evident in her voice.

Edward turned towards them. "You remember the concept of Equivalent Exchange?"

"Yeah."

"Well, this is what happens when the equivalencies are…uh, no longer equivalent."

Alphonse nodded. "If you try to transmute something out of a lesser quantity than what you want, the end result can be incredibly nasty."

"And this only applies to sentient transmutation?" Ahsoka queried.

"Hell no," Alphonse responded. "This goes for alchemy of any kind. Remember what happened to Cornello, Ed?" he asked, referencing their fight with the false priest.

"Do I have to?" the former alchemist responded. He turned back to Ahsoka. "Anyway, that's not important."

"So what's the plan, then?" the nonhuman woman asked.

"Somebody has to go down there and investigate," Edward said bluntly.

Alphonse smirked mirthlessly. "Thanks for volunteering."

"Who the fuck said _I_ was volunteering?!"

The alchemist folded his arms. "Ahsoka and I are more than likely to end up with a one-way ticket to the Gate if we come into contact with that thing. Besides, you no longer _have_ a Gate, so you're the safest out of all three of us."

Edward deflated, clearly realising that his brother was right. "I fucking hate you right now." He started climbing down the tree. Alphonse smiled darkly. _Yes,_ he thought. _We will get to the bottom of this._

"He _will_ be back, right?" Ahsoka asked cautiously.

"Yep," Alphonse said confidently, more to reassure himself. "Ed's been in tough situations before; he can handle it."

"Don't get cocky," Ahsoka warned.

* * *

 _I really wish I kept my damn mouth shut._

Then again, he didn't really have much of a choice. But as Edward got closer to the circle, the urge to turn tail and _just get the hell out_ started screaming at him. Lightning bolts of rebound energy flickered from the burned circle, the smell of ozone strong as oxygen atoms ionised in front of him.

 _Energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Even in this godforsaken place, energy thrives. Life has thrived, surprisingly. But for how long? How can one measure the half-life of a transmutation?_ He shook his head. That would be impossible now, since Ahsoka's case confounded any chance of finding untainted data.

He closed his eyes. He could sense many people underneath the circle, which was strange. Didn't they know what they were underneath?

Either way, he came to a very stark conclusion: They could not blow up the transmutation circle—not until whoever was underground was evacuated. Edward already had doubts about the plan, mainly from an ecological standpoint, but there was no way he would let innocents die over something like this.

"There has to be another way," he whispered. Edward knelt down on the ground, picking up a flower that had somehow managed to thrive in the harsh environment. Some dirt came up with it, but Edward didn't mind. For all he knew, it might be the dirt that told the better part of the story.

 _Who are you?_

Edward paused, stiffening. "Hello?"

 _Who are you?_

The voice, he now realised, was coming from within his mind. Telepathy? It had to be.

 _No one of significance._

 _We disagree,_ the voice responded. _A scan of your mind indicates that you are important to some people on your home world. We ask again, human: who are you?_

 _I am a soldier where I come from,_ Edward responded carefully. _My surname is Elric. Who might you be, if I may ask?_

 _We are Yammosks. We are analysts._

Edward blinked. _And where are you now?_

 _Explain this concept, Soldier Elric._

 _What is your physical location?_ Edward clarified. _And another question: How can you lot understand my language?_

 _Telepathy has no linguistical barriers._

 _And the other question?_ Edward responded warily.

 _Isn't it obvious? We are everywhere here on this Koros-Strohna._

 _Koros…Strohna?_ Edward asked, confused. _I do not understand._

 _How can you not?_ the Yammosk responded, equally confused.

 _It's not a concept I know._ Edward knelt on the ground, suddenly feeling lightheaded. He assumed it was probably just from inhaling the ozone for a while.

 _It would do you some good to learn and to learn quickly, Soldier Elric._

Edward's eyes slid shut of their own accord. When he opened them, he found himself in possession of enough data to calculate the half-life of the transmutation. He didn't remember actively collecting any of it, though: it was like he had blacked out in the middle of his research. The Lieutenant Colonel looked down, finding his journal in one hand and a pen in the other. _That's weird,_ he mused. He also no longer felt lightheaded, which was even weirder considering that he must have been wandering pretty close to the circle in order to have collected those samples. On the flip side, his lungs felt like shit.

 _I guess I_ did _black out,_ he conceded.

He walked over to the tree where Alphonse and Ahsoka had taken refuge. "You two still up there?" he shouted, voice raw.

"Yeah," Alphonse hollered back. "Did you find anything?"

"I might have," Edward admitted. _It would be even better if I could remember it._

"Is that your data over there?"

Edward nodded, coughing slightly. "Yeah. I might need a little bit of help getting it back to the ship."

"That's what a vehicle is for—OW! What did you do that for?"

"I just tripped, you idiot," Ahsoka retorted.

Edward sighed. "For crying out loud, will you two _please_ quit bickering and get down here?" _It's just like dealing with Quinlan and Katrina whenever either of them have had a crappy day._ He shook his head. _Who am I kidding? Al and I have no room to talk, and we're in our thirties. Age just doesn't give a crap._

Ahsoka landed catlike a meter or so behind him, evidently having jumped down from wherever she had been perched in the tree. Alphonse sought to use the alternate method of climbing down, which Edward thought was the smarter choice.

"I take it you found something useful?" Ahsoka asked while the alchemist was still climbing down.

"Maybe," Edward responded, voice thankfully stronger. "I'll have to do a lot of analyses once we get back to the ship. Do you happen to have a microscope on board?"

Ahsoka blinked. "I might. What kind do you need?"

"Anything that can tell me any clues about the transmutation's half-life."

"A microscope might not be able to help you with that," the non-human woman warned.

"Not on the chemistry side," Edward agreed. "But it'll at least give me some information concerning the biology of the flora on this world."

Ahsoka shrugged. "I'll see what I can dig up. But I can't make any promises."

"Thank you, Ahsoka."

Another coughing bout came, its intensity forcing Edward onto the ground. He felt two sets of arms help him back up as it eased. The former alchemist looked at his companions, grateful.

"Are you sure you've recovered enough?" Alphonse asked sharply.

Edward nodded. "Yeah; I just breathed in too much ozone."

"Ozone?" Ahsoka asked. "That's surprising."

"Actually, it makes sense," Alphonse butted in. "It's only natural that the energy resulting in transmutations ionises some of the oxygen ions in the nearby atmosphere." He frowned. "Unfortunately, this thing seems to be creating an ecological problem as well as a social one."

"All the more reason to destroy it," Ahsoka said grimly.

Edward's eyes widened, remembering the Yammosks. "No!" he protested. "We can't!"

"Excuse me?" Alphonse asked, eyes narrowing. "What the hell do you mean, 'we can't'?"

"There are people under there," Edward explained, coughing briefly.

"What are you talking about? There's no one in the vicinity but the three of us."

Edward raised an eyebrow, confused. "Surely you could sense it."

Alphonse shook his head. "I would have known if there were people there."

"But I felt—"

"Al's right, Ed," Ahsoka said firmly. "There's no sign of a populous of any kind under the circle."

"Neither of you can sense it?"

"No," they said in unison.

Edward sighed. Clearly there was no getting his point across to them.

"Perhaps you were hallucinating from the lack of breathable oxygen?" Ahsoka suggested.

"Maybe," Edward said slowly. But even at that very moment, he could sense living individuals under the circle the same way he could sense the two people next to him. It didn't make sense.

"We should leave," Alphonse said sharply.

"Agreed." Ahsoka turned to Edward. "Are you good to walk back to the speeders?"

The former alchemist straightened. "I should be."

"Let's go, then."

* * *

For Edward, the next several hours after returning to the ship were spent on doing research and imbibing tea with honey. Alphonse had retired to his room for the night, and Ahsoka had said something about meditating for a bit.

It turned out that there was indeed a microscope on board, but the one that Ahsoka had let him use was a gigantic, hi-tech beast. It took him about two to three tries to figure out how to operate it, but what he saw was amazing. The samples had been magnified several hundred, maybe several thousand times, and the building blocks of those materials were visible.

As fascinating as it was, the biological side of the data wasn't going to help much when it came down to figuring out the transmutation.

Edward frowned, reading his notes from the previous day. Something didn't seem right.

* * *

 _20 September 1933_

 _Materials Collected:_

5 grams dirt

Analysis needed to confirm chemical composition

Analysis needed to determine half-life of chemical compound

2 flowers, species unknown

2 grams ash, possibly several years old

Analysis needed to confirm chemical composition

Analysis needed to determine half-life of chemical compound

10 blades of grass

Analysis needed to determine chemical composition

Analysis needed to determine half-life of organic structures

 _Main Ingredients Intended for Human Transmutation:_

 **[Section Redacted 21 September 1933 by Edward Elric]**

 _Ingredients Found at Transmutation Site:_

Calcium

Carbon

Iron

Salt

Chemical Formula: NaCl

Iodine

Small Traces of the Following:

Copper

Zinc

Selenium

Antimony

 _Based on the information listed above, I find it difficult to conclude that it was any sort of human transmutation being attempted. However, the transmutation had rebounded and the Gate took no prisoners. Reasons for attempting such a transmutation are, as of yet, unknown._

 _The question remains, however: Why?_

 _There is no current answer as of yet. Not that those creatures will tell me anything. It's just data, data, data._

 _Look ahead, Edward Elric._

 _Three months will come and go faster than you think._

 _What will you do in the meantime?_

* * *

Edward slammed the journal shut, flummoxed. _What was up with that last part?_ It didn't make any sense, especially since it was in his own handwriting.

 _Why had I blacked out?_

The Lieutenant Colonel rubbed a hand on his face, feeling the effects of not having shaved for a week. He would have to rectify that later.

"The Yammosk," he whispered. "It's got to be something about that Yammosk thing." That was the most logical assumption at the moment, apart from the ozone thing. But ozone inhalation generally produced different symptoms, so he ruled that out.

 _Damn it, Elric, you need to focus on your research._

Edward's encyclopaedic knowledge of alchemy, in his mind, saved him a lot of work in figuring out the transmutation's half-life. Even though Ahsoka had shown him how to run chemical analyses through a computer, he felt far more comfortable doing it by hand. Time slipped by easily, and Edward wasted no time immersing himself in calculating the math by hand even as the computer worked through the data and the supplementary biochemical analysis to make sure his own findings were on par.

When he finished, he looked through the several pages of calculus-based maths at the answer that had been reached. He raised an eyebrow, sceptical.

"One hundred fifty-one point five-seven years?" he mused. "That can't be right."

As soon as the chemical analysis had finished, Edward used the computer to calculate the same thing he did by his own mathematics. "Calculation complete," a machinated female voice announced, barely thirty seconds later.

Edward squinted at the screen, frowning. _151.577 years._

"Okay, I was off by almost a hundredth, but still," Edward muttered. At least he knew the math was correct. He printed off the biological and chemical analyses, along with the computer's work of the math, sprinting into the corridor to find the former Jedi.

* * *

"Come in." Rather, that's what she would have said, if the man barging in had decided to knock.

The door opened, revealing Edward. Ahsoka stood, eyeing him cautiously. The former alchemist had dark circles under his eyes, tell-tale signs of lack of sleep, but the parts that bothered her more were the large amount of paper and flimsiplast he held in his hands and the fact that he was currently in the middle of catching his breath.

"Did you…run here?" she asked.

"Yeah, I did," Edward confirmed.

"Why?"

Edward put his stack down on the floor. "I calculated the half-life, both by hand and with the computer."

Ahsoka folded her arms. "And?"

"I was off by only a hundredth, but..."

Ahsoka unfolded her arms. "Come on, Ed, spit it out."

The former alchemist sighed. "One hundred fifty-one point five-seven-seven years."

The Togruta's eyes widened. "That long?" she asked, voice trembling with emotion.

"Yeah."

Ahsoka put her head in her hands. "So I _didn't_ trigger it." The sense of relief was so overwhelming that she had to sit back down just to process it. _I didn't initiate the transmutation. I don't have to blame myself for this mess. I knew I didn't use alchemy!_ That all but confirmed it. "Oh, wow."

"Don't get your hopes up just yet," Edward warned. "I took another look at the analysis, and the reaction was freakishly unstable. Anything with a strong connection to the Force especially seems to set it off. There's some sort of chemical component in the bloodstream that reacts with it in certain quantities—midi-something-or-other, similar to potassium and water."

"Midi-chlorians," Ahsoka clarified.

"Yeah. Those."

Ahsoka frowned. "I wonder why that is." _It had to have been pretty dangerous if it's been running like this for over a century. Based on the way Edward reacted when he came barging on in here, something tells me that this isn't normal even by taboo standards. And he also said that there is something under there, even though Alphonse and I couldn't sense it. Come to think of it, that creature was completely absent in the Force. It might be related somehow. And given the size of that thing…_

"What are you thinking?" Edward asked.

Ahsoka glanced at him, standing. "If what you said is true, then we have even bigger problems to worry about."

Edward snorted. "So, you don't think I was hallucinating."

"I never said that," Ahsoka retorted. She relented. "However, anything's possible. And if there are people under there, I don't want us to be responsible for actions potentially bordering on the lines of genocide."

"How long do you think we'll have?"

The Togruta shrugged. "At best, just over three months."

Edward stiffened at that last part, nodding mutely. He then picked up his research and exited in a rather hasty manner.

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. "I wonder what that was all about." She shook her head, figuring it would be better to figure the situation out at a more decent hour. The Togruta retired for what passed as the evening, smiling as she started to come to better terms with the fiasco that had led to this hellish mission.

For the first time in nearly a fortnight, she slept without nightmares.

* * *

Some Notes and Tidbits:

I. Xing/Xingese Language: In Brotherhood, Xing is arguably most similar to China; for the purpose of this fic, I used Mandarin Chinese as the basis for the Xingese language. (I am currently taking intermediate-level Mandarin classes in university, so if there are any areas here that you think I could improve upon with the language, please feel free to message me with suggestions!)

II. 魂铁面 (Pinyin: Hún Tiěmiàn): The simplified characters for Alphonse's Xingese name. （Traditional Characters: 䰟鐵面）

III. 先生 (Pinyin: Xiānsheng): Mister. (Traditional Characters Are Equivalent)


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

 _ **DRACHMA, 1910**_

Drachman towns were prone to cold nights; the villages in the south were no exception. In this particular November evening, the thermometers read around -25ºC. Not that anyone minded; Drachmans were naturally used to the sub-zero temperatures that occurred on a near-daily basis. The tiny village of Golubka was no exception. However, this night was much colder than it had been for months. Snow covered the entirety of the ground from a storm two days earlier, ankle deep from an adult's standpoint.

Everything was very cold, yet that was normal for people in Drachma…but this night was far from normal.

Daria Nikolayevna Petrishcheva looked outside her bedroom window, watching the sky. Even though it was a normal weather pattern, thoughts of the snowstorm still fascinated the seven-year-old girl. She always wondered what snow was made out of, and why it fell from the sky all the time.

The sky was beautiful. So many stars arranged themselves in constellations, and—

 _Wait a minute._

That star was heading towards the ground. Daria's eyes widened as she realised that it was a shooting star, quickly making a wish before putting on her warmest clothes, running hastily for the exit door.

"Dasha, where are you going?" her mother called.

"I want to see Boris and Maksim," the Drachman child responded. Surely, they had to hear about the shooting star.

"Okay," her mother said carefully. "Don't freeze to death!"

"I won't!" Daria wrapped a scarf around her face for good measure, bounding excitedly out the door. Her friends lived three houses away, but the combined effects of shortness, outside temperature, and snow made a seemingly easy journey very inefficient and complex. Nevertheless, the little girl persisted until she reached her destination.

The door opened before she could knock, revealing an excited-looking boy. "You were right, Maksim!" he yelled. "She's here!"

"Of course I was right!" another boy retorted, running towards them.

"Boys!" a man's voice barked. "Who's at the door?"

"Daria Nikolayevna, Papa!" Maksim responded.

"Well, let her in, for God's sake! It's bloody cold out there!"

The other boy hollered an affirmative, and the two of them ushered her inside. Daria was glad to be in an area where some form of warmth was accessible from a means other than her heavy winter clothing.

"Did you see the shooting star?" she asked excitedly.

Maksim raised an eyebrow. "Shooting…star?"

Drachma didn't usually get shooting stars.

The other boy rounded on him playfully. "It wasn't a normal thing, you know! You should have been paying attention!"

"I was thinking about other things!"

"Such as?"

"Boris," their father scolded gently. "Quit nagging your brother."

"Sorry."

The man walked towards them. Daria straightened. "Hello, Mr Volkov."

"Greetings, Daria Nikolayevna," he acknowledged her. "I take it you're here to play with the boys?"

A woman shouted from nearby—the twins' mother. "Aleksandr! Don't let the kids outside; they'll freeze!"

"They'll be fine, dear!" Volkov reassured her.

Daria and company nodded in agreement, grinning. Volkov folded his arms, a twinkle in his eyes. "Be careful, you three. Have fun!"

"Thanks, Papa!" Boris hollered. The brothers put their own warm clothes on, running outside with Daria once they finished.

Maksim had an odd gift—the three of them called it _Strannoye Chuvstvo,_ a strange feeling. It was the only thing they could think of to describe it. The babushkas had their own weird name for it— _Ashla,_ or something like that. They said that the name originated in the stars, far beyond Drachma, but the kids' parents dismissed it as an old wives' tale. After all, how could something so strange be known so far away?

Now, the children ran through the snow, anxious to get to where the star landed. Villagers looked at them in amusement, but they kept going.

"How much farther?" Boris asked.

"I don't know!" she responded.

"It's in the middle of the forest!" Maksim responded confidently.

"Are you sure?" Boris asked.

"Yes!"

Daria nodded, running toward the treeline. Generally, the two never questioned Maksim whenever something strange was going on—mainly because he was always right. She hoped this was the case. The distance had to have been at least half a kilometre, but they made it to the treeline without trouble. They stopped, catching their breaths.

"Alright, Max, where is it?" Daria asked.

Maksim pointed. "Straight ahead. I could feel people there, that's how I knew."

Boris snorted. "People? Last I checked, brother, people don't usually fly like that."

"I'm not saying _they_ were the ones who had wings," the twin retorted.

"Whatever," Daria butted in. "Let's get on with it."

The twins shrugged, walking along with her. At first, there was nothing but wildlife. After a few minutes, Maksim made his way forward, pointing at an object in the trees.

"Told you!" he cried out triumphantly.

Boris raised an eyebrow. "Are stars always on fire?"

Daria turned in the direction that her friend was looking, seeing orange flames protruding behind a tree. "I dunno. Maybe."

"I want to see!" Boris pushed past Daria, running forward. Daria frowned. _"Borinka!"_

"Keep up!" the boy yelled impatiently.

Daria ran after him. "Not fair!"

The three came to a halt in front of the star. It looked… _metallic_ …and crumpled. Daria folded her arms. "It crashed. The star crashed."

"How can a star crash?" Boris asked, perplexed. "Shooting stars are supposed to fly…in space."

"Over here!"

They walked to Maksim's location, curious. Three people—yes, _people_ —in white armour stood with their backs to the children, evidently looking at what remained of the star. Daria got a glimpse of the objects in the armoured persons' hands—black… _guns?_

Boris noticed it as well, silently motioning for them to hide behind a nearby tree. They hid, craning their necks to see what was happening. Their quarry conversed in a language the kids could not understand, but Daria could tell that the white armour people weren't too happy about the star crashing. They removed the funny-looking helmets that covered the entirety of their heads, revealing human beings underneath—two men and a woman—who began to argue with one another. Daria couldn't understand what they were shouting about, but she caught a few strange words: "Veyd'r," "shut'ol,", and "Galahk-tik Em-pai'r" (sounding out the pronunciations for each in her mind). She glanced at Maksim, growing terrified upon seeing the look of fear on his face. Did he feel something wrong in these people?

"Max?" she asked quietly, uncertain.

"Shhh," he whispered. "We must not let them hear us."

"They can't understand us," Boris said, voice hushed. "Whatever language they're speaking, it's not Drachman."

"Quiet, Borya," Maksim hissed. The look in the eight-year-old's eyes was wild.

Both of them shut up after that.

The white armour people put their helmets back on—which looked like a strange-looking frowny face, in Daria's opinion—and walked towards them. The children put their backs against the tree, scared. What was their intention?

A loud snarling ensued. Daria whipped her head around, eyes widening to saucers upon noticing the largest bear she had ever seen. And it looked _mad._

She screamed.

Boris looked at her, preparing to rebuke her when he saw the bear coming towards them. "Oh my God," he breathed.

Maksim was as calm as ever.

The white armour people clearly noticed the bear, too, shouting. The sound of gunfire cut through the cold air, but instead of bullets, Daria saw red bolts of light, which did nothing short of making the bear even angrier. Maksim pointed behind them, and the bear charged the white armour people. The gunfire ceased as the shouts turned to screams of terror. Maksim motioned for them to leave.

None of them dared look back as they ran home.

* * *

 **PRESENT DAY: FORT BRIGGS, 22 SEPTEMBER 1933**

In the decades that she had spent serving at Briggs, the conflict between her country and Drachma had never escalated into all-out war. Until now, which was the last thing Olivier wanted.

Nine days into the war, and already there were over a hundred Amestrian soldiers dead. Over a hundred soldiers under _her_ command.

Now she was being called in by the coroner for some reason—probably to identify some of the bodies.

"This has got to be the worst part of my day," she groaned, pushing open the doors to Briggs's morgue.

She scanned the area. Frowning. "Coroner?"

"Just a minute!" a woman's voice called.

Olivier had to wait only a few seconds before a small woman in a laboratory coat and Warrant Officer's stripes ran towards her, tripping over the hem of said coat and falling on her face. She got back up in a heartbeat, saluting. "General Armstrong! Thank you so much for being here on short notice!"

"At ease, soldier," Olivier said briskly. The coroner dropped her salute. Olivier sighed. "Why did you call me of all people here?"

The woman straightened, removing her goggles. "I found something…suspicious."

Olivier raised an eyebrow. "Suspicious how?"

"It's easier if I show you."

"Warrant Officer McGann, how the hell do you expect showing me a dead body to be any easier than telling me about it?" the Ice Queen snapped.

"Because this one died weird, ma'am," the coroner said seriously. "So did the rest of his squad."

"Weird how?"

McGann sighed. "With all due respect, General Armstrong, it will make a lot more sense if I show you the corpses."

 _This had better be worth it._ She sighed. "Very well."

They walked to where the corpses were currently being examined. McGann pulled the shroud off one of them, revealing the late Lieutenant Colonel Yakob Redding. At first glance, Olivier initially brushed off the kill wounds as large bullet holes. Upon closer inspection, though, it became apparent that the "bullet hole" was a burn mark.

"Was this man branded with anything?" she asked the coroner.

McGann shook her head. "No, ma'am. He was definitely shot."

"Then where's the bullet?"

"That's why it's weird, General," McGann said slowly. "There wasn't one."

"Explain."

McGann pointed to Redding's corpse. "The Lieutenant Colonel took one to the noggin. When I did the autopsy, I was expecting to find brain matter missing, such as one might expect to find when a person gets shot in the head, but when I looked the brain was mostly intact, save for a hole that looked to have been burned right through the skull into the right frontal lobe, and then cauterised the wound and somehow still ended up being lethal."

 _Interesting._ "And did the rest of Redding's squad have similar wounds?"

"Not necessarily in the same area, but, yes, they did."

A quick inspection of the other six corpses confirmed the coroner's findings, which greatly unsettled the Ice Queen. Did the enemy somehow manage to surpass Amestris's technological capabilities?

"I haven't seen anything this strange since the Homunculi," she remarked grimly. "I want to know what the enemy has in store."

"With all due respect, General, please don't send an entire squad to check it out," McGann deadpanned. "The less bodies I have to deal with, the better."

"It would be better for both of us, Coroner," Olivier agreed. "I'll send only a few people instead."

McGann snorted. "Make sure they're professionals."

"Believe me, I will." Olivier exited the morgue, all-too-anxious to take the lift up to the roof and get some fresh air. She stopped two levels below the roof, having to make a phone call.

" _General?"_ Briggs's telephone operator asked. _"What can I do for you today?"_

She looked at the clock. _1308 hours._ There was more than enough time to clear her head. "Have Colonel Martin, First Lieutenant Fitzgerald, and Warrant Officer Lockheed meet me on the roof at eighteen hundred hours. I've got a mission for them."

* * *

A/N: -25ºC = -13ºF


End file.
